Daybreak: Part I
by DigitalTart
Summary: One of Konoha's greatest enemies is long dead, but Akatsuki lives on, and a new threat to peace is rising in the shinobi nations. The question is... who are the heroes, and who are the villains? AU. Follows One Small Kindness.
1. Chapter 1

**About this story: **This is the sequel to my AU One Small Kindness. I would recommend you read that first. If you'd rather not—you're breakin' my heart—here is an extremely flippant summary. Read on with the knowledge that you will be spoiling yourselves silly for the first story.

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Still here? Awesome. Here goes.

Itachi—with a _lot_ of help from his mother Mikoto, Kakashi, Shikaku Nara, and the Hokage—toasted Madara, saving half of his clan and ridding the world of a not-all-that-awesome villain. Seriously... the Moon Pie Plan? Try harder man.

A lot has changed in the meantime. Some characters (coughItachicough) may seem very OOC, since he does things like smile without looking like he wants to tear out your eyeballs. _Not_ having to suffer through the agonizing guilt of offing your entire extended family will do that to you. Consequently, the only revenge Sasuke's after is payback for a decade's worth of forehead-poking, and he is generally less of an insufferable douche to everybody. Also, Mikoto did a succession of awesome things culminating in being named Clan Head and adopting Naruto.

This does not mean things will necessarily turn out better for our heroes. Arguably, things get _worse_. World politics has changed a lot in the five years Madara has been out of the picture. Some friends will become enemies, and some enemies will become friends. Characters you both love and hate will die, although mostly different ones than in canon. This story will not be a straight retelling of the events of the anime/manga. Just about the only major non-spoilery event that shows up in both continuities is the Chūnin Exams, and the participating teams, tests themselves, and outcome of the arena matches are all a little (or a lot) different.

**Pairings: **are not the focus of this story, but I know how touchy people are about this, so I'm listing them. Shipping wars continue to baffle the crap out of me. I'm sticking close to canon for most attraction. Hinata likes Naruto, who likes Sakura, who likes Sasuke. There are a few scenes that could be creatively interpreted as Itachi x Sakura if you really, really wanted to, although given that she's thirteen that's pretty icky. Mikoto got remarried to somebody you'll only care about if you read OSK. There are a few more, but they're characters so minor I doubt anyone has thought about the pairings long enough to hate them. I will also give you fair warning that not absolutely everyone in this fic has defaulted to heterosexual. There is, however, nothing explicit. If even acknowledging the existence of not-straight people bothers you, either read on and keep your mouth shut, or run on back to 1960.

**Beta Credits**: Go to the Dark Lord Potter forumgoers, chiefly Agayek, Axelgreese, The Berkeley Hunt, Datakim, Disposable Head, Drynwyn, and Luckykas.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 1 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Eighteen pairs of eyes were fixed on the lectern, eighteen pairs of hands moistened in nervous anticipation. This was the day that decided their future. If they passed, they would no longer be schoolchildren, but soldiers. Umino Iruka's gaze wandered over their bright, shining faces, and...<p>

Well, make that seventeen pairs of eyes. Uchiha Naruto was staring longingly out the window at the luscious summer sky, paying no attention to him whatsoever. With his eyebrows quirked in faint annoyance, Iruka ignored it—could've been worse. At least Naruto was physically present in the classroom and not out defacing the Hokage Monument or various other landmarks, an activity in which he used to partake on an almost monthly basis. He'd gotten a lot better since his first year under Iruka's tutelage, but 'a lot better' meant that he only paid no attention in class and consistently bombed his paper tests—not that he was Konoha's most hated juvenile delinquent, bane of teachers and law enforcement officers everywhere.

"Today is the last stage of your graduation exam," Iruka intoned, his hands clasped behind his back. "When you name is—"

"Crap! That's today?" Naruto burst out.

"Dumbass," Uchiha Sasuke muttered from the other side of the desk. His chin was resting against his curled hand, and he was wearing his customary classroom expression: the scowl of someone absolutely bored out of their skull. "Why did you _think_ Mom started tearing up when she chased you out of the house this morning?"

"But she does that every morning. I mean, not the crying, but the chasing," Naruto muttered back. "You know alarm clocks are my sworn enemy!"

"If you flunk, she's going to _kill_ you."

Iruka cleared his throat very loudly and the whispered bickering subsided. "When your name is called, you'll go into the side room and perform a henge no jutsu into either myself or Mizuki-sensei. Both of us will judge it on accuracy. If it is up to our standards, you'll pass." He paused to take hold of the metal plate riveted to his headband and beamed at them. "And I'll be giving you one of these."

The students were called in for their exam back to front, putting the rest of the class above the two brothers in the corner. Sasuke went in next-to-last, as if he hadn't a care in the world. He came out with exactly the same expression and a shiny new hitai-ate tied around his temples. He was at the top of the class—had been since he was enrolled—and no one expected otherwise from the second Uchiha prodigy. "You're lucky Iruka-sensei picked a jutsu you can actually do," Sasuke said, as he slid back into his seat. "Your bunshin always look like they have the flu."

"Not anymore! Do you know how long Nii-chan spent showing me how to—"

Iruka stuck his head out of the exam room. "Naruto, would you get in here already? It's the last day of class and everyone wants to go home... including _me._"

Naruto made a rude face at Sasuke and pushed back his chair. Henge was a piece of cake. In fact, Iruka had probably seen so many, Naruto suspected he was getting bored of the things. He strode into the examination room and grinned a little too widely at his two examiners. He put his hands together to form the appropriate seals and transformed into Iruka.

If Iruka had been a busty woman, wearing nothing but an unzipped chūnin vest and a pair of navy-blue panties. 'Iruko' leaned over and blew Mizuki a kiss, her ample assets swinging. Personally, Naruto thought the swirly orange tassel things were what pushed it over into the realm of genius.

There was a beat of mortified silence. And then...

"_NARUTO_!" Iruka thundered, going crimson. As one, the entire class winced over in the next room.

Naruto released the transformation, still grinning like a cat over an open fishbowl. Iruka was, without a doubt, his favorite teacher. None of the others screamed anywhere near as loud, or turned all those different shades of red. He was vastly more fun to torture than, say, Suzume, or Mizuki.

"Well, do I pass or what?" Naruto asked, tucking his arms behind his head.

Iruka glanced at Mizuki for support, still blushing furiously. "We both know his henge is flawless when he _bothers to do it properly_," the pale-haired teacher said, sounding annoyed. "Just pass him before he does me. I'm never going to get the image of you in pasties out of my head. Ever."

"Fine, you pass," Iruka said crabbily, handing him the last hitai-ate. "But remember, you pull something like that on your new jōnin sensei and he'll throw you back here so fast the door'll close on your butt."

"So when do I get to meet him?" Naruto asked.

"Tomorrow," Iruka said, with finality. "Now _go home_. You're giving me a worse headache than usual."

-ooo-

"The Hokage is a cruel, cruel man. How can he live with himself after this?" Kakashi asked, and took a long swig of his beer. He'd gotten to the bar first, always a sign of trouble, and had started with something a lot stronger than beer, yet another sign of trouble.

"He assigned you another genin team, I take it?" Itachi said. He had never been as enthusiastic about intoxication, and was still nursing his second bottle.

"Yes!" Kakashi exclaimed, bringing his drink down hard on the table. "Dashing their hopes 'n dreams so soon after graduation? Can't you imagine the heartbreak on their cute little faces when they learn they got me? He's a _monster_."

Itachi sighed inwardly. It was a conversation they'd had every summer, since resigning from ANBU, and Itachi was getting rather tired of it. The two men were sitting at their table in the corner of Kakashi's favorite bar, a cluttered, haphazardly swept dive in one of Konoha's seedier neighborhoods. Most of the really serious nightlife had been chased down the road into Otafuku Gai, but the private hostess club upstairs still retained certain employees who would perform certain services for certain fees. When Itachi had turned sixteen, his former captain had made an embarrassingly big show of introducing him to one of them to provide, to quote Kakashi, an 'education'. It hadn't been one of his proudest moments.

There was only one seat in the tiny place where Kakashi could drink without his face being seen by the other patrons, and that one seat exposed his back to the open street. Itachi was preternaturally perceptive. The first time Kakashi had invited Itachi along for drinks, the implications of their seating arrangements hadn't been lost on him.

Kakashi was willing to turn his back to the potential threats because he trusted Itachi enough to watch it for him. After Uchiha Madara's death at his hands and the promotion to ANBU captain that came with it, Itachi had first assumed Kakashi would find one of his own teammates to perform this sacred duty. But Kakashi kept on inviting him, to what Itachi finally realized was his relief. Despite his perpetual tardiness and rather adolescent obsession with pornography... Kakashi was the only shinobi in Konoha that came close to understanding him. They had a lot in common, most of it painful.

"You could always try passing them," Itachi observed. "They might grow on you."

"You mean like a fungus?" Kakashi asked morosely. "You have this... this _way_ with the little buggers. I don't. They whine and bitch constantly, if you don't keep an eye on 'em they trash everything, and you can't take 'em out drinking unless you want to get arrested."

"You got along well enough with me when I was thirteen."

"Tha's _completely_ different," Kakashi insisted, gesticulating with his bottle. "You were more mature than I will ever be by the time you hit puberty–look how much you're not drinking right now. Planning to get plenty of rest, and to the school on time, and... everything. You're so responsible it hurts. _Hurts_." He drained his beer and waved at the waitress for another. Itachi was actually beginning to feel a trickle of pity for Kakashi's assigned students. Not only would they be facing a jonin instructor who had no intention of passing them, they would be facing one who had no intention of passing them _and_ a hangover.

"Have it your way," Itachi said, with slight shrug. It was the same conversation they'd had last time, and the time before that, and the time before that. After six years as his best—and only _bipedal_ friend, leaving aside Pakkun—Itachi knew better than to press. As much as he professed to dislike children, Itachi suspected the truth was that the older man was terrified of them.

Genin were so... fragile, and theirs was a dangerous line of work. A jōnin sensei was expected to do more than simply instruct his charges in ever more advanced fighting techniques. Far from the comforts of home, he ate from the same pot of rice, slept around the same fire. He cared for them if they became injured or ill. The awkward questions about growing up—more often than not—fell to him to answer. It was too easy to become attached, and becoming attached frightened Kakashi more than the deadliest of mission assignments.

Being friends with Itachi was safe, because Itachi could take care of himself, and was the only person around better than Kakashi himself was.

Itachi tensed slightly when he felt one of the anonymous presences from the street narrow their focus onto them, but relaxed just as quickly when he realized who it was. The woman smiled at him and ducked under the flags hanging from rafters. A few of the other patrons cast her longing gazes—which she ignored—as she picked her way to their corner table. She had long black hair, enormous green eyes, and incongruously perfect makeup for someone dressed in combat fatigues and a flak jacket. The zipper had somehow slipped down as she had walked over, revealing a small Uchiha fan pendant dangling above generous cleavage. She also wore the white sash of one of the Daimyo's elite bodyguards. Like most of the best shinobi, she lived for misdirection, and anyone who assumed she'd been hired entirely for her figure was in for a lethal surprise.

"Anzu-san... I thought the Daimyo's retinue already left," Itachi said, by way of greeting.

"God damn cat got loose again," she said, rolling her eyes. "His wife refused to leave until we found him. Mind if I sit down, Kakashi-san? I was hoping to find him before I went back to the capitol."

"Oh, be my guest," Kakashi said, crinkling his only visible eye. Close proximity to Uchiha Anzu's bustline usually put him in a better mood. One of the ubiquitous Icha Icha books had appeared as if by magic in front of his face, and he was taking slightly awkward sips of his beer behind the cover.

Instead of pulling up a chair, she rested her hip heavily on the table, leaning over Itachi. Although it wasn't in his character to withdraw at the first sign of a confrontation, he was forced to do so to prevent having his nose buried somewhere entirely inappropriate for a public venue. His former neighbor was only the cleverest and most persistent of several female hopefuls; Uchiha of his lineage tended to collect them, like corners tended to collect dust.

"I heard you bought Yūhi Kurenai-san a bottle of some very nice wine the other night. Very, very, _very_ nice wine." She narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't you just out and tell me you were dating an older woman?"

"Because I am not," Itachi answered. "And I fail to see why who I buy wine for is any concern of yours, since I am not dating you either."

"You took me out to dinner a few weeks ago," she countered, her fingers toying with the clan pendant and the perfect white skin beneath. "I thought that meant something to you. To _us._"

"That meant I was congratulating you on becoming one of the Twelve Guardian Ninja. Not that I was dating you," Itachi corrected. "I thought I was fairly clear about the reason for the invitation."

She sighed with exasperation and sat back upright. "Gee, thanks. I'm glad we cleared _that_ up. You may be a once-in-a-generation genius in the field, but I swear there are Academy students who know more about women than you do."

"Hey Anzu-chan! Forget about him! I'm free any Friday you are!" someone called drunkenly from the opposite side of the bar.

One of his buddies pulled him back down by his sleeve and he toppled from his perch on the barstool. "Kotetsu, you moron," he grumbled over the clumsily vacated seat. "_What_ did I tell you about saying that around Itachi-san? You're lucky he thinks thinks you're too pathetic to take seriously and hasn't genjutsu'ed your brain into custard pudding."

Anzu crossed her arms beneath her breasts, ignoring the drunken propositions. "So if you're still not dating me, and you're never dating anyone else... I think I finally understand. You've been sleeping with Kakashi-san this whole time, haven't you."

Kakashi's rebuttal to this charge was lost in a fit of coughing, as he had just inhaled a mouthful of his beer. "I'm _not gay_!" he finally gasped out. "Itachi... why the hell aren't you backing me up here?"

"It's more amusing to watch you squirm," he replied, before answering Anzu's question. "And I am about to take my first genin team, in between my political obligations. I do not have time for romance. With anyone."

"Well, excuuuse me for drawing a really obvious conclusion," Anzu huffed. "People talk_. _You drink together. You go out for dinner together. You show up in each other's hospital rooms without fail." She looked over her shoulder at Kakashi. "And I have _seen_ you wandering home from his apartment in the morning. Myself. With my own eyes."

"I was really drunk and passed out on his couch. Is that some kind of crime?" Kakashi protested.

"I am not convinced it was his couch," Anzu replied with a sly smile.

"You'n your amazing tits are no longer welcome here," Kakashi said crossly. "Don't you have cats to herd or something?"

Anzu slid off the table with a knowing smile still pinning up her lips. "I'll catch you next time I'm in town, Itachi. Write me if you change your mind. Later."

Kakashi picked up his beer and drained it as quickly as he could, ignoring the gaping from several of the other patrons. "The hell'd you say to her, to make her say that to _me_?" he asked.

"I... have no idea," Itachi admitted. Complete ignorance was not a feeling that sat well with him. His strategic acumen against enemy shinobi was legendary. Against teenage girls... less so. He was familiar with the process of seduction as it related to achieving mission objectives, but those courses had been less clear on how to get the targets to _stop_. He'd spent the last six years mostly ignoring them in the hopes they would all go away, a cunning ploy that had revealed itself as a complete failure.

"Figures. Women, understanding, impossible, so on, so forth," Kakashi mumbled. He had never entered a steady relationship with a woman that didn't involve payment by the hour; if anyone could aid Itachi with this dilemma, it wasn't going to be him. "So if you're not doing Kurenai—which I would fully support, by the way, since she is _smoking_ _hot_—what was the wine for?"

"A small token of gratitude, for not filing a formal complaint about the new team distributions. I poached one of her prospects. One Haruno Sakura."

Kakashi looked at him blankly.

"I believe you've been referring to her as 'Pinky'."

"Her? God, she's got it for your little brother ten times worse than Anzu does for you. At least _she_ puts a lid on it when she's on a mission. Why not let Kurenai take Pinky? She used to be a teenage girl, right? She made it to jōnin without gettin' gutted 'cause she was too busy putting on her lipstick."

"Sakura's written scores were tied with Sasuke's. And I think she would balance Naruto nicely. He's probably more of a heavy-combat type, and the team needs someone with a more delicate touch."

"Hey, didn't the Hokage put him on—" Kakashi muttered. "Oh. Wait. You stole the brat from me."

"Considering you didn't plan on teaching him anyway, I didn't think you'd mind."

Kakashi waved it away. "I don't," He dropped his voice conspiratorially as he leaned over the table. "But between Minitachi, Minato-sensei's kid, 'n Pinky... your team's seriously stacked. Like the second coming of the Sannin or some crap." He let out a low whistle. "Being Candidate Hokage has its perks, huh."

-ooo-

Iruka checked his watch for the twelfth time, sighed, and pushed back his chair. True, the two elite jonin outstripped him in every measurable way, but that didn't mean his time was theirs to waste. They were supposed to have picked up their teams an hour ago.

"That's it," he announced. "It's almost noon, and I have somewhere to be. I may not be able to give you detention anymore, but if you trash the room as your parting gift to me, I can still have you fined for the damages. Naruto, this means you. Everyone else, good luck with your new sensei. I'm sure you'll make a good impression."

There was a polite chorus of goodbyes from five of the students left in the classroom and an indignant whine from Naruto.

After his teacher's footsteps had faded down the hall, Sasuke yawned behind his hand and glanced at Naruto. "No eraser in the door? Glue on the frame? Salad oil on the floor?"

"Nope," Naruto said.

There was a pause.

"So what _did_ you do?"

"Absolutely nothing. Don't you think it's brilliant?"

"That _is_ brilliant," Sasuke said sarcastically. "I am blinded by your brilliance. I wish I had my sunglasses."

"No really, I thought this through!" Naruto protested. "Iruka must've warned him about me, see. So he'll be waiting for something horrible to happen the entire time, and the longer it doesn't the more worried he'll get, until he can't take it anymore and his head, like, _actually explodes._"

"Wait, let me get this straight," Sakura put in, turning around from her desk in the second row. "Now you're pranking people by being _perfectly well behaved_?"

"Yes!" Naruto agreed. "Evil, isn't it? Now please, please, please don't ruin it, I hear somebody coming. This'll be great."

The heavy footfalls belonged to two men, and they seemed to be arguing. Both of the voices were familiar, although Naruto could only immediately attach a face to one of them. He grinned wider than ever.

"...sad day for ANBU when my sempai needs more babysitting than my little brothers," Itachi said under his breath, and pulled open the door—although not before checking for stickiness or potential falling objects. He also made a careful inspection of the tiles before putting his sandals down on them. "We apologize for being so late."

"What's this 'we' stuff?" Kakashi muttered, his hands stuffed sullenly into his pockets.

Itachi shot him a warning glance, but continued. "Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Naruto, and Uchiha Sasuke, please come with me."

Sasuke and Naruto rose immediately to comply. Sakura did not. Not because she had any intention of disobeying the request, but because she had the feeling she'd fall flat on her face if she tried getting to her feet. Probably half the girls in her class had Uchiha Itachi's picture thumbtacked to their bedroom doors. Hell, some of the female _teachers_ probably did. He was the unholy trifecta of talented, attractive, and rich, and then there was the tragically heroic part he had played in stopping his father's rebellion against the Hokage. She swallowed and carefully pushed herself up.

"And you three are with me," Kakashi said, gesturing vaguely at the three boys in the back row. They were solidly in the middle of the class rankings, not from prominent clans, and all had a really, really bad feeling about this.

"You're Hatake Kakashi. You didn't even bother looking up our names, did you," one of them said glumly. "I heard you've never passed a single team you were ever given."

"Correct," he answered. "The faster we get this over with the faster I can have lunch. Chop chop."

The three boys filed out behind Kakashi, wearing identical expressions of dejection.

Itachi motioned for the rest of them to follow him out. Sasuke did, but stopped just out of reach. "No. Way," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know that look. I'm a shinobi now, and the 'maybe-later-Sasuke' forehead poking thing stops. Today."

"Uh, Sasuke-kun_..._" Sakura began, and didn't finish. What part of her wanted to say was 'I know he's your brother, but talking to your jōnin sensei that way is insubordination'. But this was Sasuke, the man of her dreams and definite future husband. She wasn't going to correct him.

"Of course it will," Itachi said, feigning hurt. "My primary duty is now to train my team." He extended his hand towards the open door. Sasuke unlaced his arms and his expression of suspicion, and took a few steps forward. Two fingers hit him squarely in the center of his hitai-ate' plate.

Sakura slapped her hand over her mouth, before a giggle could escape at her beloved's humiliation. Part of one did anyway.

Naruto started laughing so hard he choked on it. "You fell for it _again_!" he said between gasps. "That never gets old!"

"Your first lesson. Listen to what is being said, not what you want to hear," Itachi said, and added. "And that was the last time, Sasuke."

"I don't believe you," he said sourly, readjusting the band.

"Ah, now we seem to be getting somewhere," Itachi replied. "You shouldn't, because I am the best liar in Konoha."

Sasuke followed his brother out, his face locked in a scowl. Itachi led them to the shade of a large tree in the corner of the Academy grounds and instructed them to sit. They went through the basic introductions exclusively for Sakura's benefit, and, once they had finished, Itachi prepared to announce their first mission.

"So it's going to be incredibly cool, right?" Naruto asked, rolling forward into a crouch and resting his chin on his knees. "And super dangerous?"

"I would hope not," Itachi answered. "One of my neighbors lost an earring."

"But, like, inside one of the tiger-infested ANBU training grounds?" Naruto persisted.

"On her way home from the bakery," Itachi corrected, smiling faintly at Naruto's unbridled, if premature, enthusiasm. "It apparently has sentimental value. Please meet me and the client at the park in the northeast corner of the Uchiha district at eight-thirty tomorrow morning, and be prepared to provide a selection of search patterns. Just as a reminder, we will be taking team pictures at the school at seven-thirty, so please wear clean clothes."

"Excuse me, Itachi-sensei_,_" Sakura said in a small voice. "There isn't going to be some kind of... test?"

"The final test administered by a jōnin sensei is optional," Itachi explained. "I selected you because I have confidence in your abilities."

"All right, then it's lunchtime," Naruto announced, collecting his things. "See you tomorrow!" He fell into step beside Sasuke, who promptly picked up the threads of an old argument as they began the walk home.

"Sakura," Itachi began, stopping her as she moved to trail after the two boys. "I would like to have a word with you, before you go."

"Of course, Sensei," she said, her eyes firmly on her toes.

"I know Sasuke and Naruto's abilities fairly well, but yours only secondhand from your instructors. If you choose to enter a combat role, your aptitude tests indicated you are most likely to succeed as a genjutsu specialist. Can I assume you haven't received anything more than basic instruction on how to counter it?"

"No, sir. All we learned was how to recognize when we were trapped in one, not how to do the trapping."

"I have some books on the subject you may find useful. They are probably too advanced for you, but..."

"Oh, no, I'll take them," she said quickly. "Like I said during introductions, I really do like to read. I'm sure I'll manage."

"If you have time to come by my apartment, I can give them to you now. It isn't far."

"You want me to, to... your apartment? Already?"

"I would like to give you several _books_," he said, with exaggerated patience. "If I brought them tomorrow you would have to carry them with you during the mission. Some of them are old and rather fragile and I do not want them to become damaged."

"Right. Right! You're completely right. Sir!"

"I live a little south of the Hokage's Tower. This way," he said, with the air of someone hoping desperately he hasn't just made a terrible mistake.

Sakura fell into step with him. On the surface, she acted like many of her female peers, the ones who stumbled through the Academy and completed just enough D and C-rank mission to keep them occupied until they were old enough to marry. If that was the extent of her personality, Itachi would never have bothered with her, but he was nothing if not skilled at reading between the lines. Despite her outwardly meek and vacuous behavior, there was fire there, and a mind so sharp even _she_ seemed afraid she might cut herself on it. Aside from her high written scores, her academic file was unremarkable, although the brief psychological evaluation administered as part of the school physical was... odd. The examiner's notes were incomplete, but his initial findings indicated a split personality. The outer personality: feminine, obedient, and highly distractible—emphatically not shinobi material. The inner personality: fiercely intelligent, stubborn, passionate... even violent. Now that... that had promise.

Sakura looked like she wanted to ask him something, but kept her lips clamped obediently shut. Itachi was well aware how intimidating his presence was, even to people otherthan flighty teenage girls, and spoke first.

"I realize you may feel like something of an outsider, for several reasons. I have been training Naruto and Sasuke for years, and their skills in ninjutsu and taijutsu are far above average for freshly graduated genin."

Sakura sighed almost inaudibly, and took a sudden, intense interest in the wax desserts piled up in the window of the cafe they were passing. She was already aware how good they really were, even Naruto, as much as she professed to find the blond boy a pain.

"I want you to understand that does not make your contributions to this team any less valid," Itachi said. "Being born into one of the shinobi clans does not destine you for greatness, any more than being born into a civilian family resigns you to mediocrity."

But..." she began. "You and Sasuke have the sharingan. My family doesn't have any kekkei genkai or even special techniques like the Nara or the Yamanaka. The ones that become ninja mostly end up at desk jobs or in the Medical Corps."

"That is all very true. It is also true the Yondaime graduated nowhere near the top of his class, and spent much of his time in the Academy washing dishes at his parents' pub. I have it on good authority he was also frequently beaten up by a girl."

"He... wait, what?" Sakura sputtered.

"You didn't know?" Itachi asked nonchalantly. "The Namikaze family were not ninja. The Yondaime achieved his fame and developed his signature jutsu largely through being smarter and working harder than his competition. It's this one, on the end," Itachi said, indicating a tall building painted muted blue. He let them in through the narrow door next to the tailor's that took up the ground floor.

"Wait there for a moment," he instructed her, after opening his apartment door and replacing the keys in his pocket. "I need to update the seal around the door to approve your chakra signature or it will knock you unconscious and give you a splitting headache when you finally come around."

Sakura made an apprehensive noise and rooted her feet to the carpeting in the hallway. Itachi stepped over the threshold and performed a sequence of handsigns, his back to her. She felt a charge pass through the air that made her hair stand on end, then it disappeared. "Done. Come in."

She smoothed down the wayward locks, stepped inside, and pulled off her sandals with her toes.

"Would you like anything to drink?" he asked.

"No, thanks, I'm fine," she murmured, nervously cupping her elbows behind her back as she looked the place over. His apartment was neither as large, nor ostentatious, as could be expected for someone from a clan as wealthy as the Uchiha, especially since his mother was Clan Head. The only concession to real luxury were the high ceilings and tall windows, open to let in the pleasant summer breeze. There were a few books and empty glasses scattered here and there, and a fine coating of dark animal hair on most of the upholstered furniture and rugs. It was no wonder he was wearing black. That stuff seemed to get everywhere.

The source of the fuzz was an enormous black cat, sprawled in a sunbeam behind the armrest of the couch. She took a few steps toward it, while Itachi turned his attention to the bookshelves. "You're a pretty kitty, aren't you," she cooed, kneeling and extending her fingers to let the cat sniff her. "Mind if I pet you, girl?"

It opened its one visible eye and blinked at her, unimpressed. "I was asleep, and I certainly _do_," he said, in a deep and unmistakably masculine rumble. He raised his head, and fixed her with an intense green stare. Half of his left ear and most of the same side of his neck was a knotty mass of sparse fur and pale scar tissue. Around his throat was a collar of black leather plates stamped with the Uchiha fan, and in place of a name tag was a silver charm in the shape of Konoha's leaf. "Nor am I female," he added unnecessarily.

Sakura yelped and fell back on her palms.

"Hm," he grunted, his tail undulating in irritation. "Not even an apology for waking me up? It's just as rude to start rubbing your grubby hands all over me as it is to touch a human you've never met before," the cat complained. "Bring some fresh tuna next time and I might reconsider letting you pet me."

"Hyōkuro is not a housecat," Itachi chided, his fingers brushing the spine of a book from his large collection. "He is under blood contract with me and serves at my partner on missions that require scent tracking in return for room and board."

Sakura picked herself up from the floor, red in the face. "Sorry, Hyōkuro-san. I didn't realize people did that with animals besides dogs." She bowed to the cat, feeling silly, then backed up and sidled over to study the bookshelves as her teacher began pulling out volumes. The cat grumbled something unintelligible and put its head back down on its paws.

A lot of the books seemed to be as old as he was, with well-cracked spines, and were stuffed with scraps of paper serving as bookmarks. Part of her was surprised the great Uchiha Itachi seemed to enjoy reading as much as she did—and that he had to do it at all. She'd always assumed shinobi like him were above practice and studying, that everything they did just came as naturally as breathing.

She giggled softly to herself when a framed photograph, propped up against a pile of scrolls, caught her eyes. Itachi looked about eight or nine, and was standing waist-deep in a mountain stream with a gleefully shrieking little boy clinging to his chest like a monkey. "That's you and Sasuke-kun, isn't it?" she asked, lifting it carefully. "He was adorable!"

Itachi put the books he'd collected on an end table. "Although he isn't the most approachable, quite a few people seem to think he still is. You more than most, perhaps?"

Sakura blushed again, even more furiously than when she'd insulted Hyōkuro. "When would you like me to return these? I promise to be careful with them until I do."

"Consider them to be on indefinite loan. Ask me about anything you don't understand after practice. I'll see you tomorrow, Sakura."


	2. Chapter 2

**Beta Credits**: Go to the Dark Lord Potter forumgoers, chiefly Agayek, Axelgreese, The Berkeley Hunt, Datakim, Disposable Head, Drynwyn, Inert, and Luckykas.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 2 Oo.<strong>

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><p>"You are late for your first mission," Itachi said tartly, when Sasuke and Naruto crested the hill where he and Sakura were waiting, as well as an elderly man in thick glasses with wild tangle of gray hair. It was a pleasant summer day, and with school out the playground was mobbed with children and their parents enjoying the sunshine. Some of them, playing with smaller sisters and brothers, weren't that much younger than the new genin, but they were still <em>children<em>. All three of them had won their hitai-ate. In the eyes of the village they were adults now.

"We're not late," Naruto said, pausing to check his watch. "You're early."

The old man squinted through his spectacles, then readjusted them on his nose. The look of faint irritation on his face deepened considerably, into something approaching open hatred. "Insubordinate whelp," he muttered from his place at one of the picnic tables, just loud enough for Naruto to hear. "Just my luck to get..." he continued, trailing off only when he noticed Sasuke was glaring at him.

"You arrive after your captain, you are late," Itachi said, over the man's faint murmurs of disquiet and the children's shouts from the playground. "Remember that for next time."

"We will, sorry," Sasuke assured him, glancing at Naruto with a touch of irritation. Sasuke was a morning person, Naruto... less so.

"Now, the mission," Itachi said, steering the conversation back to their task. "D-Rank, issued by Genku-san on behalf of his wife, who lost a ruby earring at approximately 3 pm yesterday on the route from the bakery to their apartment building. She isn't feeling well this morning, so he will take us back over the path they walked home. It _is _possible someone picked up the earring since then, in which case the focus of this mission will go from basic ground search to verbal information gathering. You may have to put out a notice to the pawn shops in the area, and if it becomes necessary you will work back from there."

The old man rose stiffly from his seat and picked up the cane. "Those were my thirtieth anniversary gift to her. Something really special. It tore her up that she lost one."

"We'll find it, Jiji, don't worry!" Naruto announced. "Lead on!"

"Naruto, that is _not_ how you address a client," Sakura whispered sharply out of the corner of her mouth. She smiled placatingly at the old man, whose sour expression had deepened even further. "Don't mind him, Genku-san, he's just... overly excitable."

"Tch," he spat, and set off at a shuffling pace that drove Naruto crazy after about dozen steps. He talked to himself as they walked, most of the one-sided conversation about Naruto and none of it charitable. With the terrain evaluated, the three genin presented their search patterns to their teacher. Sasuke's was selected as the most efficient. The three genin split off to scour their territory while Itachi and Genku waited in a nearby cafe. Naruto especially was a little miffed their sensei wasn't going to help, but it was their eyes he was trying to train, after all.

They returned empty-handed two hours later, sweaty and frustrated, and Itachi announced it was time to start scouring the pawn shops. An agitated Genku insisted on taking Sakura and Naruto to the north side of the village, to 'keep an eye on him', which left Sasuke the whole south half. What the client wanted, the client got, so Itachi grudgingly agreed to aid Sasuke with his portion.

Genku stumped to a more deserted part of town, his two hired genin trotting along behind. The apartment blocks gave way to ugly, serviceable commercial buildings and empty lots of weeds and gravel. "Excuse me, sir," Sakura piped up, "But I think you might have taken a wrong turn. There's no pawn shops in this part of the village. It's mostly warehouses."

"I'm not looking for pawnshops," he said, the grandfatherly visage somehow growing more sinister in their stark surroundings. He skewered Naruto with a gaze so vicious Sakura swallowed involuntarily. "You stole it, you little brat," Genku hissed at him. "You knew it was worth five times the mission fee. Filthy lying thief!" He tucked his cane under one arm and brought his hands together, forming signs with an easy familiarity marred only by the stiffness of his knuckles.

Four pillars of dirt thrust out of the ground to immobilize Naruto's hands and feet. He struggled futilely against the restraints. "You're a shinobi?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"I was an ANBU veteran when your parents were in diapers. The only reason I had to hire a genin team for this was because my eyes have gone to hell."

"This is our first mission, he absolutely wouldn't do anything like that to mess it up," Sakura pleaded, looking uncertainly back and forth between them. "It doesn't make any sense. Please stop it."

She was becoming a little frightened now. If he'd been ANBU and was old enough to have a thirtieth wedding anniversary, that meant he'd been both very lucky and very good. This part of the village was practically deserted, mostly used for storage of building material and commercial goods. It was unlikely anyone would be watching. It seemed his choice to split Naruto from Itachi and Sasuke had been purposeful. He hadn't cared to separate _her_ from Naruto. It meant he didn't consider her anything like a threat, which was more than a little insulting. Her cheeks began to burn.

The old man ignored her hesitant pleas and advanced on Naruto, who was squirming frantically against the hardened dirt. "I haven't found it, honest!" he insisted. "And even if I did I would've given it back. I shoplift things sometimes, I admit it. But _never _anything important. I'd never take something that special to somebody else! I swear!"

"Like I would believe a single word that comes out of your mouth," Genku said to him.

The earth swirled around Naruto's arms, constricting tighter, forcing a moan of fear and pain out of him.

The air felt thick. Sakura started to pant, as if her lungs couldn't nourish themselves properly on it. She took a step backward from the old man before realizing she'd moved. This must be what her instructors in the Academy had called 'killing intent', this fear freezing her reason. It was precisely as horrible as she'd been warned.

Something was about to happen. Sakura realized with a sudden sick certainty that the man was going to break all of Naruto's fingers in the next minute unless someone did something. Itachi and Sasuke were too far away to hear what was going on, or they would've come running. Since Naruto wasn't going to be able to get himself out of this, that meant the only available somebody was _her. _

She bit down on her lip. Naruto was annoying, and her mother had told her to stay away from him for reasons she refused to elaborate on, but she wasn't just going to stand here and watch while one of her classmates was being _tortured_. She forced herself to step between Naruto and Genku and raised her hands in supplication. "Leave him alone, _please_," she said. "Keep him restrained if you think you have to, and I'll send a bunshin to find Itachi-sensei_. _He'll be able to find out for sure if Naruto really took it."

Genku curled his lip and shoved her easily aside. He was both much stronger, and much faster, than his pinched face would have suggested.

Sakura pushed herself up, and imposed herself in front of Genku a second time. Her head felt hot. Like something she'd tried very hard to bury was trying to get out. Who the hell did that old man think he was? Before Sakura could convince herself how crazy she was acting, she pulled a kunai out of the holster on her thigh and slid her feet wide on the dirt. "I told you to leave him alone!" she cried. Maybe she was a genin and he was ANBU, or used to be, but he couldn't very well _kill_ her, could he? Right in the middle of Konoha in front of a witness?

"What're you going to do with that, girl?" he asked, chuckling maliciously.

He placed his palms together again, apparently unconcerned with the blade point at his chest. More earth shifted. Naruto screamed. Sakura charged.

Genku caught her arm easily, twisting it around until she shrieked, and the knife dropped from her boneless fingers. Looking into his cold blue eyes, she felt a surge of pure terror. He was ANBU. He was an assassin. He was going to _kill_ _her_.

But then there was a small swirl of smoke, and it was Uchiha Itachi's dark gray eyes instead, filled with something that felt strangely like pride. The painful grip on her forearm relaxed, and she slid down to the ground, thighs together. The hardened dirt packed around Naruto's limbs melted into smoke.

"What the hell, Sensei? That really hurt!" Naruto hollered, clutching his hands chest. Although the pain lingered, his fingers weren't even red; the whole thing had been an illusion.

Sakura ignored his increasingly shrill complaints and put her hand to her hammering heart. The heat behind her eyes was going away, and so was that awful tight feeling in her stomach. She hated feeling that angry. No... that hadn't even been angry. She'd been crazy frothing _pissed._ The fact that it was over someone like Naruto made it worse.

"You lied about there not being a test," Sakura groused into the dirt.

"Like I told you before—I am a very, very good liar," Itachi said, offering her a hand to rise. "Incidentally, you've passed with flying colors. Your real missions will begin tomorrow." He looked over his shoulder as Sasuke landed on the cobblestones beside them, flushed and out of breath.

"Why was I following one of your kage bunshin?" Sasuke asked Itachi, cross. "And where's the old man?"

"You missed Sakura being awesome," Naruto said to him. "Hey Sakura-chan... this means you secretly love me, right?"

"What? No! You are still annoying and I don't like you like that. Or at all."

Naruto briefly summarized their encounter with 'Genku', Sasuke listening without much apparent interest.

"If there wasn't a real mission why'd you drag me into this?" Sasuke asked. "I could have spent the morning training for real."

"Verisimilitude," Itachi answered. "And because there is something I need to you to take away from the exercise this morning."

"We're a team," Sakura supplied. "Even if we don't like each other, we're a team. I know some people in Konoha say things about Naruto. Sometimes they're really nasty things. I don't know why. But it's up to the rest of us to defend one of our teammates if they can't defend themselves—whether we think they're the most annoying person on earth or not."

Itachi nodded his approval. "Well said. As a shinobi you often will not have a choice about who will else be assigned to a mission. You may loathe them, but they are your comrades. They will kill for you, maybe die for you. And the same is expected in return.

"And there will be times when, despite everything you've done to prevent it, you are left weak, even helpless. Maybe you're injured, captured, ill... the reason doesn't matter. I do not want you to be ashamed of your weakness or feel that you must struggle through it alone. By the time you're ready for the Chūnin Exams, I want you three to know with complete certainty that in those times you can trust to each other's strength when your own fails you."

-ooo-

After a quick lunch, Itachi led them to a free training ground and set them to simple drills and sparring sets for the rest of the day. Sasuke and Naruto were paired together to beat each other to the edge of unconsciousness, and to Sakura's surprise their teacher spent almost the entire time working directly with her. She'd never seen an activated sharingan up close before and the almost infernal red hue was more than a little unsettling.

Very quickly, she realized he wasn't doing it to intimidate her—he was picking apart her stances and strikes under a figurative microscope. She did her best to concentrate, but the fact that, on the other side of the trees, Sasuke had just taken off his shirt was severely impairing her focus. After the third time she'd fudged a block trying to catch sight of his glistening pectorals, Itachi called a halt to the matches.

"Sasuke, Naruto," he called through the trees. "If you are hot, dip your shirts in the pond if you must, but put them _back on_, please."

Sakura blushed brilliantly when Itachi turned his attention back to her. "I am willing to excuse some of the gaps in your training because your parents are civilians, and will do my best to fill them. But this is completely unacceptable behavior from a kunoichi."

"Sorry. I'll concentrate from now on, I promise," she said, smiling selfconsciously.

Itachi was silent for a few moments. "I do not think you quite comprehend the situation. I am not Iruka. I will neither lecture you nor dispense a failing grade if you do not focus during a mission."

Before Sakura could so much as blink, she was on the ground with a kunai against her throat and her arm twisted around so violently she screamed.

"There would be no point, because you would already be dead. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Sensei," she said, through the tears of pain that were prickling her eyes. After a moment he let her up, and she got to her feet, clutching her shoulder.

"You are not seriously injured. Resume the exercise. You will have to learn to fight through pain—now is as good a time to start as any."

She was no longer smiling as she retook the proper stance. She'd received passable marks for taijutsu in the Academy, but Itachi expected a hell of a lot better than 'passable'. They continued trading blows until the sun hung low in the sky, when the three genin were finally permitted to slink home exhausted. The daydreams of being swept out of danger by her handsome teacher that had occupied her walk from home had been replaced with daydreams of her planting her knee solidly in his nuts on her walk back.

-ooo-

"Ka-chan, we're home!" Naruto called into the hall. "I'm hungry, when's dinner?" He finished pulling off his shoes and padded further into the large house. "Ka-chan?"

"She's not here," a male voice called from the living room. His stepfather Yūhi Daishiro was lounging on the couch, poring over a large stack of case files that had been spread out over the coffee table. Or pretending he was. It looked an awful lot like he'd been taking a nap.

He worked in the hospital as a patient counselor, especially for other shinobi who were seriously injured and might not make a full recovery. He complained about it a lot, mostly about all the paperwork he had to do, but Naruto gathered he still liked his job. He'd pulled off his flak jacket and overshirt in deference to the heavy summer heat, exposing the faded ANBU tattoo curling over his left shoulder. He dropped the handful of papers he'd been annotating on his stomach, and looked over his reading glasses. "She's stuck in a council session. Dinner's whenever you feel like going to pick something up."

"Aw, come on," Naruto whined. "I've been training hard with Sasuke all day. Our team got officially passed. And that _hurt_."

Daishiro picked up his papers, and snapped them out flat. "You're going to have to do better than that, Naruto. I just pulled a ten-hour shift on suicide watch, and at this point I can barely walk. My wallet is on the hall table. Try to get something with at least a little green in it."

"Oh," Naruto said, genuinely contrite as he noticed the heating pad under his back and the bottle of very strong pain medication half-buried under some of the papers. When his stepfather said he could barely walk, he wasn't playing the pity card. Five years ago, he had been part of the team tasked with the protection of Naruto's adoptive mother long enough for her to make the rendezvous with Madara in Itachi's place. When Naruto had met him for the first time he'd been in a full-body cast, and the medics weren't sure he'd ever be able to walk again, so hobbling around with a backache was an improvement. Secretly, Naruto thought he was still a pretty good shinobi, even though he couldn't fight anymore. He found a job he could do, an important job, and did it well, instead of drinking himself stupid and then dead like some of the people whose cases he'd worked on.

"Fine, old man, I'm getting dinner," he huffed. "As long as Sasuke has to come too and help me carry it."

"Sasuke has to what, now?" his brother asked, wandering into the room. He looked over the back of the couch, and then at the pill bottle. "Daishiro-san_... _are you feeling all right?"

Daishiro looked a little hurt at his choice of address, although he did his best to hide it. "I will be as soon as the meds kick in," he announced. "Thank god for whoever invented those."

No matter how many times he was invited to do so, Sasuke could never bring himself to call the man 'Father'. It wasn't that he didn't like Daishiro as a person, because he really, honestly did, but that position was permanently filled by Uchiha Fugaku. Nothing anyone said would ever convince Sasuke otherwise. Yes, Daishiro would congratulate him when he brought home yet another perfect test score, coach him before important sparring matches, and always remembered his birthday. Fugaku may have spent almost his entire life completely ignoring him, conspired to assassinate the Hokage, and was five years executed, but he was still his _father_.

"That was Mizuki-sensei at the door_," _Sasuke said, indicating the paper tucked between his fingers. "He was dropping off the prints of our team portraits. He and Iruka-sensei are throwing a little party on Saturday for all the teams that passed their jonins' test. It's a picnic. We're supposed to bring some food to share." Sasuke flipped the paper over and scanned through it. "I guess only two more jonin passed their teams: Shikamaru, Ino, and Chōji under Sarutobi Asuma-sensei and Shino, Hinata, and Kiba under Yūhi Kurenai-sensei." His lip curled. "Hn. Good thing neither of us ended up under Hatake. That lazy bastard would've flunked us for sure."

"He is not," Daishiro said, his tone no longer playful.

"What?" Sasuke said.

"Hatake Kakashi is not a lazy bastard," his stepfather repeated. "And if you're going to insult him again, you'd better not do it where Itachi or I can hear you. We served in ANBU together. Nobody took care of the operatives under his command like Kakashi did. _Nobody_."

"Sorry," Sasuke said, shrugging uncomfortably. "He kind of comes off that way." He tossed the letter and two copies of their team portrait on the table. "So what did you want from me?"

Daishiro accepted the apology with a curt nod. "Help. Carrying dinner home. And making sure Naruto doesn't buy a dozen bowls of pork ramen on my dime."

-ooo-

It took ten minutes worth of heated argument, but eventually a takeout compromise was reached, and the two boys trudged home with two fragrant paper bags. Their mother, it had been unanimously decided, was a better cook than almost anyone, in Naruto's opinion rivaling even Teuchi from the ramen stand. Unfortunately for their dinner table, she had become one of Konoha's top diplomats, and rarely had the hours to spend in front of the stove she'd had when her children had been younger. Four places were already set at the table... Mikoto must have gotten home while they were gone. Sasuke started unpacking the spoils on the counter while Naruto wandered upstairs to tell his parents the food was here.

Their bedroom door was open a crack, and he could hear soft voices inside. He slid it open to announce dinner and froze.

Mikoto and Daishiro had both changed out of their uniforms into light summer yukata, and were standing toe to toe with their arms crossed over each other's waists, and their lips pressed together in a chaste kiss.

Naruto turned and ran. "Oh _gross_!" he shrieked on his way back down the stairs. "Old people kissing!"

After a few moments to compose themselves, Mikoto and Daishiro followed him down. "I hope watching your parents smooch _behind the privacy of their bedroom door_ wasn't so horrifying you lost your appetite," Daishiro quipped as he took his place at the table. It was one of the newer styles, high enough to fit chairs under, instead of low for kneeling. The rest of the Clan Head's mansion was firmly in the realm of traditional, but concessions had to be made for her husband's stiff legs. As the duly elected leader of the Uchiha, Mikoto could do what she liked with the house, tradition be damned. Since she was one of the only women on the Jonin Council, and the first female Head of the Uchiha, a lot of the other untraditional activities she partook in tended to fall below the level of the Elders' notice.

"And I'm not that old, honestly," Mikoto added, helping herself to some food.

"Your hair's white," Naruto said, around a mouthful of rice.

Mikoto flipped the thick streak of white away from her face, to mingle with the more pepper-than salt strands flowing down her back. It had come in like that after the extended stay in the hospital following her confrontation with Madara. According to the medics it happened occasionally following severe mental trauma. Although she'd eventually made a complete recovery, what her clan's psychotic former leader had subjected her to beyond qualified.

"How did it go with Itachi today?" she asked, changing the subject.

"We drilled. Hard," Sasuke said. "We're starting real missions tomorrow. And he set up some kind of stupid test for Sakura. Waste of time. I don't even know why he let her on our team. She's weak and her taijutsu is terrible."

"Cause he likes me more than he likes you," Naruto mumbled, his eyes glazing over. It was eminently obvious to him why someone as beautiful, intelligent, graceful, and well-dressed as Sakura would end up on his team. She was the most amazing kunoichi in the whole class, and their elder brother had recognized her unique talents fit their team _perfectly_.

"So was mine, if you factored out the advantage of a sharingan," Mikoto reminded Sasuke. "In terms of strength and size women can't compare with men, on average. Even Itachi isn't physically very strong compared to someone like Maito Gai. It's a lucky thing natural muscle power is only a tiny part of what can make a shinobi an effective part of his or her team."

"That weird guy in the green jumpsuit?" Sasuke said, wrinkling his forehead. "He's a moron. Last week I saw him trying to do laps around Konoha on his hands. Itachi could wipe the floor with him."

Mikoto considered a bite of carrot in her chopsticks. "Oh, I don't know about that," she said contemplatively. "He may have no fashion sense, but he is one of Konoha's top jonin. He is just as much a master of taijutsu as your brother is of genjutsu."

Sasuke looked skeptical. "Okay, fine, so Bowl Cut Guy fights better than he dresses. What does that have to do with Sakura? She isn't good at anything else, either."

"She is too!" Naruto insisted. "She gets perfect scores on, like, all our paper tests! I've che—studied with her tons."

"Whatever," Sasuke muttered. "She only stuck it out at the Academy in some idiotic attempt to impress me. She'll drop out before the end of the month. You'll see."

-ooo-

After dinner, and a rousing fight with Sasuke over the remote control, Naruto kicked a path through the crumpled paper and dirty laundry littering the floor and flopped into bed. His bedroom was the smallest, but it was _his_. He had plenty of pocket money to buy any sort of movie poster or print he could find, but the most prominent decoration was still a vintage instant ramen advertistment Umino Iruka had found discarded behind a convenience store and saved for him.

He wasn't particularly sleepy, flushed with excitement that his first real missions would be starting tomorrow. He found his mind wandering back to what Itachi had told them after the test. His brother was really good at that, telling you things that made you think.

He sat up and pulled his legs under him, to readjust his team picture beside the one already occupying the bedside shelf. He'd have to get a frame for his own—maybe one that matched his mother's. In the faded photograph, a twelve-year-old Mikoto was glaring at Kushina like she wanted to wipe the crazy smile off her face with a smack, and Daishiro just looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in the middle of what was shaping up to be an epic catfight. If they did things back then the same way they did now, the picture was taken right after they were inaugurated as a team. Almost thirty years later the sour-looking girl and the pimply boy were married and so in love they didn't care who knew it. They both cared for the redhead so much they'd made her only child their own.

Naruto picked both of the pictures up, considering them side by side. Sasuke had an almost identical frown to the one his mother was wearing, and Naruto was smiling the same dumb smile as his. Even their jonin sensei looked oddly familiar. He'd been dead a long time (Mikoto and Daishiro unfailingly wreathed his grave with flowers on the spirits' festival day), but he'd seen that silver hair before, and recently, too. He squinted at it. The apparently not-so-lazy-bastard Hatake Kakashi that Daishiro and Itachi respected so much—that was it. He didn't know for sure, but the haunted-looking man seemed about the right age to be Kakashi's father.

He may not have been born into it, but Naruto had a real family now. That's the way things went in hidden villages. Bonds between comrades could be stronger than any ties of blood. It didn't happen to everyone, but for an awful lot of people that first genin team was something special. He replaced the photographs on the shelf, turned off the lamp, pulled the covers over his chest, and closed his eyes. Knowing that ought to have been enough.

Only... it wasn't.

He had a family, a clan, and people that loved him, but a piece was missing. Even after all this time, his heart felt stretched, his loyalties divided.

Naruto didn't really know what to call Kushina anymore. Not his 'real' mother. Mikoto was his real mother. The grinning redhead in the picture may have given birth to him, but they'd never met, at least not long enough for Naruto to remember it. Mikoto said she'd died defending the village from the Kyūbi's attack the same day he'd been born.

They'd been good friends, the best of friends, and she had been quite willing to share every story she had about her former teammate. Mikoto told him about the war, the fall of Uzushio, the extinction of the Uzumaki clan. Naruto hadn't really been able to grasp the significance of it at the time, but _he_ was the one who had ended it, when he surrendered the name Kushina had given to him. As far as Konoha knew, there were no more Uzumaki left. It still chafed him sometimes, like a pair of poorly fitting sandals.

He _was_ an Uchiha. There was a letter proving it, signed by Mikoto and the Hokage and three witnesses. His shirts and jackets all had the fan sewn on the back, just like Sasuke's did. He walked past the emblem every day, slept with it glowing on lanterns outside his windows.

And yet he _wasn't _an Uchiha. His hair was too blond and his eyes were too blue. Standing on the edge of the boat landing, he'd been able to produce a gust of wind that raised a wave big enough to drown the poor irises growing on the opposite bank, but never, ever the sphere of roaring fire. He tried, for days, then weeks, because _he didn't give up_. No matter how much his mother told him he didn't have the right affinity, that it was impossible... how could he not try? All of his tremendous ability with the wind element meant nothing to the traditions of the Uchiha, since it was the gōkakyū every one of them was required to master to grow into adulthood. She told him again and again that it was all right, that he was just different. That had only spurred him on harder. He didn't _want_ to be different.

After a while, even Sasuke began to grow uncomfortable teasing him about these efforts, and one day Naruto simply stopped going to the pier. It was a bitter lesson, learning that there were some problems hard work couldn't solve.


	3. Chapter 3

**Beta Credits**: Go to the Dark Lord Potter forumgoers, chiefly Agayek, Axelgreese, The Berkeley Hunt, Datakim, Disposable Head, Drynwyn, Inert, Luckykas, and Sechrima. If we missed a typo, kindly point it out in your review and I will correct the error.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 3 Oo.<strong>

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><p>"Thanks for inviting us to your picnic, Iruka-sensei<em>," <em>Sakura said. "I'm not that great in the kitchen, but you can't mess up sandwiches."

She deposited her basket of food next to the ones her teammates had brought. Sasuke, to her surprise, was a rather talented chef, and his contribution of onigiri looked vastly more appetizing than anything that had ever come out of her kitchen. They were the last team to arrive at the informal party, and a very acceptable spread had already been laid out on the mats and blankets. It was punishingly hot and everyone had retreated to the shelter of the ancient trees ringing a small clearing of withered grass. Bordering the river, this park was allowed to grow semi-wild, but the dry summer had left the meadow yellow and balding.

Sakura picked up a serving spoon and began helping herself to what looked best. She paused with her hand on a brownie when Ino made a derisive snort in her direction. The other girl was stretched out in the grass next to Shikamaru, eating apple slices and looking superior. Sakura returned the glare and took two brownies. She was of the opinion that Ino could starve herself if she liked. Itachi was pushing her taijutsu drills so hard to catch up with his brothers that she needed all the calories she could shove in her mouth. The sessions weren't pleasant, but even she could tell they were making a difference. Maybe Ino had smooth hair and perfect skin compared to Sakura's frizz and sunburn, but every new split end and bruise _she'd _gotten training daily with three Uchiha. Ino couldn't beat that.

"Actually, this was Mizuki's idea," Iruka said, smiling ruefully at Sakura as she took her plate to the shade next to him. "And he brought the blankets and coolers and things."

"Yeah, that's 'cause he's the nice one," Kiba muttered under his breath. He'd taken off his jacket and laid it on the grass next to him. It was sprinkled with crumbs and had a very large puddle beneath Akamaru's head, who was splayed out and panting like his life depended on it.

"Kiba-kun!" Hinata squeaked indignantly, from his other side. "You shouldn't say things like that... Iruka-sensei was always really nice to me."

"I heard that," Iruka said, flinty.

"Well thank you, Kiba," Mizuki said. He was leaning against a tree, absently popping grapes into his mouth and spitting the pips behind him. "And he has a point. You did scream at them an awful lot."

"Maybe that's why their jōnin sensei decided they were tough enough for fieldwork," Iruka shot back, grinning, and took a long swig of his soda. "Just because I screamed at you guys when you did something dumb doesn't mean I don't like you."

Naruto looked up from his precariously high pile of food, which he didn't seem finished loading up yet. "You must like me best, then, since you screamed at me more than anybody."

Next to him, Shino sighed from behind the collar of his long green coat. "I notice you did not take a piece from what I brought." He peeled back the tinfoil to reveal a pile of sticky squares filled with something crumbly and brown. Naruto looked at them without enthusiasm. It wasn't that he didn't like Shino. He just... didn't know Shino. They'd been in the same homeroom class for six years and he didn't know Shino. Naruto didn't think this was his fault. The creepy bug boy barely talked at all, and when he did it was usually about bugs. Plus he'd always been _real_ suspicious of what the Aburame brought in his lunchbox.

Hinata cleared her throat quietly. "I-I'd like to try one, Shino-kun," she said, holding out her palm. He nodded slightly and lifted a piece into a napkin for her. She bit into it with a little trepidation, which was quickly replaced with a murmur of pleasure and a genuine smile. "These are really good! Are they honey pastry?"

"Yes," he answered. "My mother made them with honey from our family's hives."

Kiba got up to help himself to a large piece. He broke off a corner for Akamaru to investigate, and the puppy licked it up happily. "Huh. Bugs. Honey. I guess I never thought too much about where it came from before."

"Maybe you should," Shino said, a tinge huffy. "All the honey in Konoha comes from the Aburame apiaries, and it's the best in Fire Country. We—" he broke off to grab Kiba by the arm, and in an extremely firm grip. "Are you killing ants?" he said, in a vaguely threatening voice.

"Yes, I'm killing ants," Kiba answered, since he hadn't been trying to make a secret out of it. "Aw, man, now they're all over my fruit salad. Would you lemme go?"

"I will if you promise to stop. I'll take care of it," Shino said. Kiba grunted his reluctant assent and his teammate released him. The Aburame picked up a small slice of honey pastry and tossed it well clear of the picnic dishes, then formed a few quick handsigns. Every ant wandering toward every plate abruptly changed direction, as did all of the hovering wasps. "They were not hurting you and they deserve to eat," he said, brushing the sticky crumbs from his hands. "Why do I think you'd agree? Imagine, if you will, someone who wanted to poison all the stray dogs who went through the garbage dump, although they caused no harm and took nothing of value."

"I... eesh," Kiba muttered, sheepish. "When you put it like that..."

"Hey, Shino, you can come to the Uchiha family picnic anytime," Naruto declared. "That's one handy jutsu."

"Yeah, thanks," Chōji called, grinning at him too. "Didn't really want to squash them, but nothing and nobody steals chips from me and gets away with it."

The ice now thoroughly broken, the nine new genin ate and chattered, relaxing under the sun after what had been a very long week. Once they'd had their fill, Iruka produced three decks of cards and declared he was teaching everyone how to play poker, so they could have a taste of the debauchery he'd so sternly warned them against. But just a taste, as they were playing for jellybeans and not for cash. The genin cells were set up in games with each other, teachers providing coaching as necessary. The winners would be competing with each other in a second round. To absolutely no one's surprise, Shino, Sasuke, and Ino won the first games.

"That's it," Ino announced, after a tense half an hour. "I'm done. I am never playing against someone with sunglasses and a nose-high collar ever again. Sasuke-kun, you're going to beat him for me, right?"

He was focused intently on something over his shoulder and didn't answer her.

"Sasuke-kun?" she repeated.

He tossed his cards at his feet, the game forgotten. "Iruka-sensei," he said, very softly. "We're being watched."

"Eh, it's probably just some ANBU sentinel jealous of our snacks," Naruto asserted. He was lying on the grass next to Shikamaru and Chōji, being inducted into the sacred brotherhood of cloud-watchers. "That one's a bunny," he announced sagely, to the approval of his fellow disciples.

"No," Iruka said, suddenly tensing. "I don't think it is." He rose nonchalantly and crossed over to where Hinata was playing tug-of-war with Akamaru. "I need you to scout the area. Keep your head down. Kiba—do you scent anyone in the vicinity?"

"If they're here, they're upwind," Kiba said, uncertain. "Akamaru can't smell them either."

Hinata gasped, a shiver running up her chest. "A man and a woman, three o'clock, in the tree branches," she whispered. "They're wearing... brick-red flak jackets?"

"Red?" Mizuki whispered quizzically, and caught Iruka's eye. "The only village that used red was Yugagakure, but their daimyo had them close up shop and turned the place into a huge hot spring resort last year. I was planning a trip there with my fiancée once school was out."

"I'm thinking not all of their shinobi were happy with that idea," Iruka said tightly, and turned toward the collection of worried faces. "There's nothing strategically valuable in this part of Konoha, so we have to assume they're after one of us. How many of you are armed, and how well?"

"My team is," Sasuke said immediately. "Thigh holsters, eight kunai each. Belt holsters, twelve shuriken each. Naruto has two more kunai on a spring catch in his sleeve, Sakura twenty untreated senbon, and myself ten poisoned senbon. Time from puncture to target incapacitation averages five minutes."

"I—I'm never totally unarmed," Hinata volunteered, somewhat unsteadily.

"Nor am I," Shino added, with his usual cool confidence.

Ino toed Shikamaru hard in the ribs.

"Or me," he said, wincing, and sat up to press his fingers together in a loose circle. He closed his eyes, and after a moment began to speak. "If they're after what I think they're after, their targets are going to be Sasuke and Hinata... and they won't need you two alive to get what they want. I think our best bet is to have Iruka-sensei and Mizuki-sensei charge them as soon as they make their move, Shino coming up behind. I use his kikaichu swarm to leapfrog my shadow over to theirs, and Sasuke sticks them while they're trapped so we don't waste poison—he's got the best throwing arm out of all of us, chūnin included. Once I have a lock with kagemane no jutsu I can hold them for just under five minutes. Between the toxin and the chakra drain from the bugs, they should be weakened enough for the rest of us to hold them off long enough for help to get here. Eleven against two sounds like good odds, but they could be jōnin for all we know and I don't want to take chances. Kiba—the Inuzuka kennels are pretty nearby, aren't they?"

"Mm," Kiba grunted.

"Then we'd probably need Akamaru to wander off right about now. And once he's out of their sight, _run_." He looked to Mizuki, the older and more experienced of the two chūnin. "Your orders?"

"I think you just gave them," Mizuki replied, his eyebrows arching in disbelief. "But next time I'd prefer to, got it?"

"They're moving," Hinata whispered forcefully. Beside her, the grass shivered as Shino's kikaichu flowed out of his sleeves, over the hands he'd braced in the dirt. Sasuke unlocked the catch of his senbon holster.

"Scatter on Hinata's signal and not before," Mizuki ordered in a hushed voice, palming a kunai. The genin waited, sweat beading on their faces as they casually shifted their limbs to spring away at her call.

"Now!" she cried. The clump burst apart as a mass of sticky white webbing spattered into the space they'd recently been occupying, most of it concentrated where Sasuke had been kneeling. Mizuki bounded after the woman, still crouched in the trees, and she shrieked as a huge shuriken materialized in his fist and went flying towards her neck. It missed by only the barest of margins, and severed a few locks of her red hair as it sang past. Caught off balance, Kiba and Akamaru took the opportunity to rush her. She seemed reluctant to close with them, retreating further into the trees. Mizuki and Shino followed, as well as Hinata a few moments later, not wanting to be left behind even if she was the woman's target.

Iruka tossed three standard shuriken into the area the webbing had come from, while he was in midair, and regained his footing on a strong tree branch and pulled out another fistful. There was a rustle of leaves and a man... no... boy dropped gracefully to the ground, untouched. He didn't look much older than Iruka's own students, but his tight smile was haughty and he didn't seem concerned in the slightest he was outnumbered five to one. His skin was dark, like many shinobi from the northeast, but his most distinguishing feature was so bizarre several of the genin let out gasps of revulsion. He had six fully formed, and well-muscled arms, all six hands clenched into fists. He spat out a blob of the same white substance that had made up the net, and looked up at Iruka. "Had my first move sidestepped by some schoolteachers. This might actually be some fun. I—huh?" he grunted, eyes going wide. He twitched once, then dropped to his knees and raised his upper pair of arms, folding them behind his head. "What the hell did you do?"

"Kagemane no jutsu, successful," Shikamaru intoned, from where he was crouched in an identical position next to a thorn bush. "Now, Sasuke!"

The other boy leaped over a boulder he'd been sheltering behind, a sideways grin of triumph on his face. "Too easy," he said, and let fly with three of his poisoned senbon, directly at his opponent's unprotected belly.

Or at least it _should_ have been. The boy jerked his lower two hands over his torso, the palms coated in a sheen of gold. The senbon tinkled against the metallic shield, and without missing a beat he flipped them around in his fingers and launched the poisoned needles back at Shikamaru. His shadow snapped back like a broken rubber band, and he ducked only in time to avoid two of them. The third embedded itself in his shoulder. As soon as he registered its sting he pulled it out, but the damage had already been done. The poison had been formulated to immobilize a bulkier adult opponent, and the effects on his smaller body were almost immediately. His left arm went limp and he stumbled backward into the weeds.

"Guess that only works on the body parts we've got in common," the young man said, smirking at the increasingly groggy-looking Shikamaru. "And now you've gone and shown me your hand." Freed of the Nara's jutsu, he went directly after Sasuke, spitting another clump of webbing.

Sasuke was fast enough that most it missed, but a swathe landed on his cloth bracer, tethering his left arm to the boulder. He struggled against the sticky stuff to no avail.

"You'll be coming with me now, hmm?"

"No, he _won't_," Naruto cried, his hands flowing through signs. He inhaled swiftly and exhaled a gust of invisible blades that tore into the grass and clear through a sapling tree.

The jutsu was more powerful than anything a genin should have been able to perform, and in the hands of a more experienced user would have been capable of reducing him to a pile of bloody chunks. The main advantage the wind element held was that it was invisible until it came into contact with a solid surface, and, if Naruto's focus had been narrower, his foe would have received no warning. But he just laughed, dodging it easily. "Fūton user, huh? Lucky for me your control is absolute shit."

The distraction was enough for Sasuke to break free, which was what Naruto had been hoping for in the first place. The kunai he'd thrust into the mass didn't cut a strand, and once in, he couldn't get it out again. He drew another to snap the leather strap at his wrist, the buckle buried deep in the webbing.

Iruka abandoned his perch in the tree and interposed himself between Sasuke and his assailant. He drew his chūnin's tanto from the sheath at his belt. Correctly, he judged both of their attackers to be ranged fighters and dove in to close the distance. "Keep your hands the hell off my kids!" he screamed, swiping the blade across the space his opponent's neck had occupied a fraction of a second before.

The boy, unarmed as he was, drew back at his ferocity. He still managed to parry every strike with his multiple sets of hands and forearms, coated in that metallic shield. The taller, more muscular Iruka pressed hard, keeping him in melee range every time the boy tried to get away.

"Kick his ass, Iruka-sensei!" Naruto shrieked, as their battle drew them into the trees. He scuttled after them at a less-than-discrete distance, calling out encouragement.

Sasuke was about to follow, but a wail from Ino snapped his attention back to where Shikamaru had fallen. Chōji had dragged him out of the brambles while Iruka kept their attacker preoccupied. He had become too weak to sit up unassisted; his head lolled against his friend's shoulder, and he was putting a frightening amount of effort into simply breathing. Sasuke jogged over to them, shoving the hysterical girl out of the way. He reached into his hip pouch and pulled out a single-dose injector filled with the antidote. The cap he tore off with his teeth; the needle he drove into Shikamaru's thigh and held until the reservoir emptied.

"W-will he be okay?" Chōji asked, on the verge of tears.

"The antidote might buy him some time, but he still needs a medic as soon as possible," Sasuke replied.

Huddled behind the wide bole of a tree, Sakura hadn't been able to do anything during the battle, but she hadn't frozen. She hadn't panicked. She could do something _now_. The sight of Ino disheveled and sobbing pushed her up from the bark she'd been bracing against. Truthfully, Sakura didn't know if she'd have done any better if it was Sasuke lying limp on the ground, struggling for breath, but that test wasn't today. She slid her unused kunai back in the holster. "Hey, Pig," she said, her voice coming rough from a dry throat. "He'll make it."

Ino looked up at her, wiping her streaming nose and eyes.

"Sasuke... this is a voluntary muscle paralytic, right?"

"I think so. My mother makes it, I don't know the exact mechanism."

"No, no, that's good. If he can't breathe, one of us can breathe for him for as long as it takes for help to get here. Even if it paralyzes his diaphragm, his heart should keep beating and he's going to stay conscious. Chōji, lay him flat, holding him up like that might be obstructing his airway. Ino..."

Sakura swallowed. She hadn't said a single word to Ino in the last three years that hadn't been soaked in hatred. She wrung it out of her tone and continued. "Ino, pinch his nose shut and give him one slow breath every four or five seconds. If his chest doesn't rise and fall, the seal isn't perfect. I'll watch it and count off for you until you get the timing right."

"How did you know... no, never mind, explain later," Sasuke said, shaking his head. "Take care of Shikamaru. I have to make sure Naruto doesn't get his stupid face smashed in." He rose, to follow the sound of metal on metal that was echoing through the trees to their right.

The antidote didn't take effect quickly, and under Sakura's direction Ino began working. As she'd hoped, Shikamaru's pulse remained regular, and although he couldn't return the strong grip in which Chōji had taken his hand, he could probably feel it. Once Ino had found her rhythm, Sakura sat back and began scanning still forest for any whisper of movement.

It came all too quickly.

"I can hear someone," Sakura whispered. "Six o'clock. Chōji, come on. I'll take the trees, but if they get through me it's up to you."

Chōji didn't move, looking back and forth from Shikamaru's prostrate form and and faint rusting in the bushes.

Straightening, Ino fixed her most fearsome glare on the trembling Akimichi. "Get _up_, you tubby coward! Shikamaru needs you."

A kunai appeared in Chōji's hand and he stomped around to defend them. "I told you never to call me that!"

Sakura shrugged and swung herself into the branches. "Ino, whatever happens—_don't stop_," she said, and withdrew into the leaf cover.

But the advancing presence turned out to be only Shino, followed shortly after by a slightly wobbly Kiba and Hinata. He'd sent some of his insects ahead to confirm his identity. They'd all known him long enough to recognize the tiny gray beetles, which settled in front of their eyes long enough to spell out 'it's me' before buzzing away again.

"Where's Mizuki-sensei?" Sakura called, brushing aside a spray of branches.

"He went after the kunoichi, presumably," Shino explained. Although his voice was as flat as usual, a heavy sheen of sweat across his upper lip betrayed him to be nearly as frightened as the rest of them. "She put us under a genjutsu. When we came to, they were both gone, and out of Hinata's visual range."

"Do you know where Iruka-sensei's fight took him?" Sakura asked Hinata, slipping off the branch and landing in a low crouch.

She pressed her lips together and activated her byakugan. "West. Naruto and Sasuke are caught up in it now." She let out a little whimper. "I think he's losing!"

-ooo-

The boy spat out another web, and again Naruto shredded it with a well-timed fūton. Both he and Iruka were covered in the sticky scraps, but once cut they didn't seem to have the incredible tensile strength of the fresh stuff, and were an annoyance instead of a serious impediment. What was of much greater concern were the golden spikes he could spit from his mouth, and with very painful precision.

Naruto shrugged off the puncture wounds like they were pinpricks, as if they were healing in the space of minutes rather than days. Red had crept into the blue of his irises. The air around him was fairly crackling with fury that someone had _dared_ to attack his brother and his teacher on their own ground. He fought as if he felt no pain.

They were still losing.

It had become clear within minutes that Iruka's furious rush hadn't frightened his opponent in the slightest, and his withdrawal had been purely strategic—this narrow, wooded section of the park had been liberally strung with the webs. So far, Iruka had been able to keep himself and the genin out of the gummy foot traps spread on the branches, and Naruto's elemental jutsu could extract them from the lines, but the terrain was no longer to their advantage. His first instinct, to keep Naruto, and then Sasuke, out of the fight had been a similar tactical error. So was deciding not to put on his chainmail shirt this morning, or anything in his belt pouch but his house keys and some mints. He shouldn't have _had_ to come armed—the Interception Team should have swooped in the moment those two crossed the barrier, but it had been so long Iruka could only conclude they weren't going to be coming.

The brief battle had gone from what looked like an easy win, to a hard-fought win, to simply praying to whichever gods were listening that he kept breathing long enough for a whole ANBU squad to get here. If the spider boy (who introduced himself as Kidomaru, voice dripping with contempt), hadn't been so inexplicably hesitant to physically harm Sasuke, all three of them would be dead by now. Bright child that he was, Sasuke had figured that out very quickly and set immediately to exploiting it. He had also deduced within the first thirty seconds that the golden kunai were the only things capable of piercing the equally golden armor that had welled up over Kidomaru's skin.

Iruka ducked behind the bole of a tree to initiate a rickety genjutsu, the best effort he could summon with perilously low reserves of both blood and chakra. A shimmering cloud seemed to rise from the river, cloaking one of the banks in impenetrable mist. Iruka silently motioned Naruto and Sasuke over to him. He took a deep breath, held it tight, and yanked out the ringless golden kunai embedded in his side. It wasn't the first, and if it kept going like this, it wasn't going to be the last. Knowing that your opponent was likewise bleeding heavily was only a small comfort—Shikamaru hadn't been exaggerating when he named Sasuke's accuracy with throwing weapons the best of them all.

Sasuke came first, quiet as a teacher could hope for. Iruka handed him the blade. His fingers closed hesitantly around the bloodied handle. Naruto dropped down from the branches a second later.

"We have to take him out now; I'm not going to be able to dodge any more of those, not like this," Iruka whispered to the genin, glancing down at another dark stain on his leg. They weren't even really separate stains anymore, just one big, wet patch that ran out from under his vest all the way to his right knee.

Sasuke's attention was focused so sharply every glance seemed to nick the air. If he was frightened, either of Kidomaru or of _Naruto_, he didn't show it. His brother was crouched in his shadow, on all fours like an animal, and panting through clenched teeth. Every few moments the color of his eyes would shift and swirl, his body alternately that of a berserker or a terrified child.

"I need you to listen to me very carefully," Iruka said. "I know how good your combination jutsu are. This time... I need you to work me in, too."

"But every time we—" Naruto started, his eyes currently blue and his voice tight was panic.

"I didn't think you'd have a problem," Iruka said, cutting him off. "You always picked up new techniques faster than anyone."

"What do you need us to do?" Sasuke asked.

"Naruto—when I give you the signal, I need you to spread out a fūton jutsu as wide as you can, like a funnel. The blunter the better. Sasuke, you light it as soon as you're sure my spray is clear of us. He depends on the webbing for evasion, so we'll just have to cut off every escape route. Take him from his blind spot. Go, and stay out of those lines."

Sasuke nodded briefly and snuck into the undergrowth. Naruto grimaced, not wanting to be separated from his brother, but still held his ground. Sasuke had been a prickly student, focused almost to the point of obsession, his pride in his skills sometimes tipping over into arrogance. They'd spent almost their entire career in the Academy bickering incessantly, an unending game of one-upmanship. But apply pressure from the outside and the rivalry would blow away like smoke. They may not have been brothers by blood, but Sasuke would protect Naruto from anyone.

"Ready?" Iruka asked.

"I..." he began, his eyes on the withered grass. "I don't feel right. Inside my head. I can't—"

"You can. You know how much of a hardass I am," Iruka whispered. "If I passed you... you're a shinobi. You can do this."

Naruto unclenched his fists from the grass. Kidomaru was so sure of his victory he'd resorted to taunting them, dragging out the confrontation solely to insult Iruka's tactical ability, his career choice... and the resolve of his students. That was his mistake. "I'm ready," Naruto said.

Iruka pushed himself up, leaning heavily against the tree trunk for support. He undid the clasp on one of the scroll cases and slid the paper out. There was already enough blood on his right hand it took effort _not_ to accidentally splatter the storage seal with it. "I'm going to drop the genjutsu. Three... two... one..."

After a moment of hesitation, Naruto dashed out from their cover, putting his hands together to form the required signs at the same moment Iruka drew his fingers across the seal. The release was a sloppy as he could make it, a heavy gust of wind that spattered the rush of liquid from the scroll across the nets and lines. It dropped a few browning leaves, but nothing else.

"Ouch," Kidomaru said, deadpan. He was grinning at them upside down, suspended by threads anchored to the branches. "Well, now that you rabbits have finally blown cover..." From behind his back he produced a stout golden spear. He twirled it expertly in his fingers, in line with Naruto's heart.

Iruka swore, shoving him aside as they both fell in a tangle into the damp earth.

As soon as the spear was loosed from his hand, Kidomaru spat out another web, wide this time. Its trajectory would spread it over where Sasuke had been hiding. He hadn't managed to stay out of every line after all, and his opponent knew he was there as surely as a spider knew every trembling of a fly caught in its web.

To Sasuke's eyes, the strands seemed to glow as they spiraled out of his Kidomaru's mouth. In that fraction of a second, his world became, in some indescribable way, somehow sharper, somehow brighter, somehow….

_Sharingan._

Sasuke dove under the net, which slapped empty into a tree. He rolled through the impact against his shoulder and came up again, his hands flying through the signs faster than they ever had before. He exhaled the gathered chakra though the focal point of his pinched fingers. The webbing bloomed with flame as the oil coating every strand ignited at once. The reach of the jutsu was massive, enough to do his family proud.

Kidomaru spun free of the initial blast, but it did him no good. He screamed as the fire raced down his lines, the sticky oil igniting everything on the opposite bank that would burn. He let go and dropped, but it was too late. The right side of his tunic was already soaked in oil, and when he landed that caught fire, too. Sasuke let fly with his last stolen kunai, and it slid deep into his neck, silencing the agonized scream. This close to the river, the ground was still damp and the plants untouched by the summer drought. The fires popped and hissed, and the weeds curled in the heat, but the flames didn't spread past the splattering of oily fuel.

It was a good thing he couldn't approach any closer. What Sasuke _could _see was almost enough to force the picnic lunch back up his throat. He turned back instead, to where his teacher had fallen, breathing hard.

-ooo-

Iruka was still clutching Naruto against his chest, pinning him to the ground. "You okay?" the older man whispered hoarsely.

Something had bitten into Naruto's side, below the last of his ribs. It didn't hurt much—like a bee sting. Naruto didn't answer his question. All the rage seemed to have melted out, leaving him hollow. He'd just helped Sasuke set someone on fire, maybe killed them. Naruto had heard somewhere immolation was the most painful way to die.

The air smelled like greasy smoke and urine. Had he wet himself in terror? He didn't remember, but if it turned out he had Sasuke was never going to let him live this down. Iruka coughed, and something warm and wet splattered on Naruto's cheek. He didn't move to let Naruto up.

In a single, horrible moment, Naruto realized why. He didn't have more than a nick, and the piss wasn't his. He was fine. He was fine because the spear had lodged in his teacher's chest instead of his.

He pushed Iruka off as gently as he could, laying him on his side. He couldn't stop coughing but couldn't seem to move his legs, not even a little. "Sasuke!" he screamed. "Sasuke, he needs help!"

Sasuke shook off the shock of all the new information pouring into his eyes, to focus on what had just hit his _ears_. He jogged to the sound of Naruto's voice, and his eyes went wide as he saw the golden tip of the spear emerging from the left side of Iruka's flak jacket, and the blood soaking through the padded cloth. "No," he mouthed, struggling over to where Iruka lay. "No, no, no..."

"This, way, hurry!" Hinata cried from the leaves behind them. "Iruka-sensei is—"

Team Eight dropped out of the trees, ringing their fallen teacher. "W-where's Mizuki-sensei_?_" Sasuke asked, when no one else spoke.

"Don't know," Kiba said. "The girl knocked us out and disappeared."

The genin didn't known much field medicine, but they all knew their teacher was in bad shape. The golden spear was maliciously sharp, and it had entered and exited his torso at the worst possible angle, right alongside his spine and out through the left side of his chest.

"We have to get this out of him," Naruto mumbled, reaching for the spear shaft.

"No," Sasuke said, grabbing his sleeve. "Didn't you pay attention in first aid? It's the only thing keeping the lung puncture sealed and you might tear into his heart. We have to wait for a real medic. Hinata... can you—"

"It's too late," she said, in a fractured whisper. "It already did."

"Come where I can see you," Iruka whispered between gasps for breath. "Been teaching since I was seventeen. Not supposed to say this, but... out of every class... I liked you best," he broke off, caught in another fit of coughing.

"You're talking like you think you're dying, Iruka-sensei," Naruto said, trying to crack a smile through the tears that were beginning to pour down his face. "You're gonna get in trouble with Principal Sāto for saying things like that."

"Naruto... just... just let him say what he wants to say," Sasuke said, tensing his hand on Naruto's shoulder.

"Not much else, really. But you're gonna be great shinobi. All of you. I could tell," Iruka whispered. He took a few more shuddering breaths, each more shallow than the last, and then they ceased.

Hinata let her byakugan fade as her ghostly eyes filled with tears, and she stumbled backward into Kiba as if dizzy. Her delicate hands pressed to her mouth, she turned her face against her teammate's shoulder and began to sob.

Shino took a step forward and extended his hand. A thin stream of kikaichu poured out of his sleeve, hovered over Iruka's inert form for a moment, and then returned. "There's nothing," he said, his voice shaking. Unrelentingly calm, unflappable _Shino_ was shaking. "There's nothing," he repeated.

He turned at the noise of a group of ANBU, Inuzuka, and their hounds as they came crashing into the clearing, headed by Kiba's mother Tsume and Kuromaru. One of the agents moved to douse the sullenly burning fire with a river of earth. The dog bounded to Kiba's side, his human partner close behind. Tsume went stiff when she saw who the tearful genin had clustered around. "Hana!" she cried. "Over here _now!"_

Her eldest daughter shouldered her way through the crowd. She was barefoot, her hair loose and her medical supplies buckled hastily over a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. She knelt and took his pulse, then put her hand, glowing gently, over the wound in his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "You're covered in blood," she said, turning to Naruto. "Are you hurt?"

"It's not mine," he whispered thickly. "He pushed me out of the way, and, and... aren't you going to _do _something!_?"_

"There's nothing to do but get those bastards," Tsume growled. "Akamaru told us everything."

"None of us could so much as scratch her, but I got some of the woman's hair," Kiba volunteered. He extricated the sobbing Hinata from where she was curled up against his side. From the pocket of his shorts he drew out a wad of picnic napkin with a small pile of red strands folded into it.

"Oh, _good_ boy," his mother breathed, carefully relieving him of the hair. It was quickly passed around to fix the scent in the Inuzuka's sensitive noses.

A man in the white cloak of an ANBU captain spoke next. "Inuzuka-sama. Can I assume you know the other instructor's scent?" She nodded. "Take who you like; I can only hope you find him in time. Heron, stay with the genin and the medic. The rest of you come with me. That woman won't get far."

-ooo-

"Average class rankings. Average mission performance. No clan affiliation. No wife. No children. No surviving relatives," the Hokage intoned. "On paper, it seemed as though Umino Iruka led a lonely life."

The Hokage let his eyes pass over the solemn faces assembled under the wide blue sky. There were so many they spilled over on to the paths, pressing against the high walls ringing the cemetery. Nearly the entire Academy, students and teachers alike, had made their way to the ceremony. Mizuki had talked his way into an early discharge from the hospital, and was leaning heavily on a pair of crutches in the front row. His eight uninjured students took up the rest of the space; Shikamaru was still too ill to leave the hospital, even for this.

"And yet... we here know it was anything but. I can see it, in the faces all of you who have gathered here to wish him well in what the next life will bring. All of us have born witness to his singular gift.

"I confess, at first... even I didn't recognize it. One mission in particular sticks out in my mind. He had been injured and caused his team to fail the objective. He failed because he looked at his enemy and saw a boy just like him—a boy just as tired and just as frightened, longing only to be home. Iruka couldn't bring himself to complete the strike.

"After his captain delivered the report, I considered suggesting he resign from the general mission pool. I knew Iruka was not a coward, but such hesitation on the field can be deadly to oneself or to one's teammates. Some would even have called it weakness. I could not in good conscience continue assigning him to missions where his kindness could become a liability. Luckily, Iruka himself proposed the solution to my dilemma—he requested to be placed as an assistant instructor in the Academy. It was a little odd, coming from him, since inasfar as I could gather he'd been a terrible student and drove his teachers to insanity. But he passed the certification, so I saw no reason not to grant his request and thought little more of it.

"In the years that followed, Iruka saw almost three hundred students pass through his classroom—and almost all of them are here today. He took what ought to have been a flaw in a shinobi and made it his greatest strength, and strengthened Konoha as he did so. To be a teacher is a position of profound responsibility, for it is to them that we entrust our future. What our children learn before they set foot in the field is the foundation for everything after, and nothing stands tall without a strong foundation.

"Iruka was both the most gentle of counselors and the sternest of taskmasters. He could see the best in everyone, no matter how tarnished their exterior, and understood intuitively how to bring those virtues to the surface. These aren't simply pretty words. The results were tangible. The genin he graduated consistently moved up through the ranks and gained commendations more quickly and more often than their peers.

"He had no children to call his own. He didn't need any. It is my belief that he loved each and every student that he taught—failed tests, detentions, pranks and all, and I know that he was loved dearly in return. He would have given everything to protect his students, and three days ago..." The Hokage paused, looking again into the crowd, "he did. Anyone who had ever called him a weakling or a coward was proven forever wrong.

"Umino Iruka, chūnin. Born May 26th, 975. Fell in the line of duty June 23rd, 998. You will be missed."

He stepped down from the podium and nodded at Naruto, where he was standing in a small knot of Uchiha with a white chrysanthemum clutched to his chest. Mikoto nudged him gently in the direction of the altar.

In addition to the portrait taken for his registration file, Mikoto had dug up all six of his homeroom class pictures, too. She had them all because Naruto had entered the first grade the same year Iruka received his teaching certification. They were lined up chronologically, in plain black frames. In the first, he still had a bit of teenage lankiness, and Naruto most of his baby teeth. His smile was somewhat forced, as if the grinning blond boy beside him had just elbowed him in the gut for the offense of trying to brush down his wild mop of hair. In the third, Iruka had just hit his twenties and now properly filled out his uniform. He held the position in the center, for the head instructor that had retired the year before. His hand was clamped hard on Naruto's shoulder, less an expression of affection than the affirmation there would be detention for the rest of his life if he ruined the photo. In the sixth, Iruka was smiling without reservation. Naruto's hair was brushed, his face was clean, and his shirt was unstained. He was glaring up at his teacher as if his eyes could drill a hole right through his head.

He was beside Naruto in every picture. Every one. Naruto placed the stem of the white blossom at the center point of the portrait's frame. With heavy steps, he shuffled aside to let Sasuke pay his respects, and then the six other genin. After him were Mizuki and the rest of his coworkers, then students, current and former. Most of the youngest children were crying openly, and some of the older ones were, too.

After the service wound down and the crowd began to disperse, Naruto declined the invitations to return home with his family. Without conscious input, his feet carried him to the ramen stand. He'd owed Iruka a bowl or two; as befit the son of one of Konoha's wealthiest clans, his allowance was very generous. Iruka had usually tried to pay, although teachers didn't make much compared to shinobi in the mission pool. Naruto hurried by before Teuchi realized he was there.

He wandered aimlessly into a deserted block of training grounds, and through the three heavy posts set in the center. The basalt spike of the Memorial Stone was visible over a line of carefully trimmed shrubs. Naruto slipped between them and stepped onto the stone platform. Iruka's name had already been added—there was still dust in the grooves of the characters from the stonemason's chisel. Naruto blew it loose, scrubbing the stone clean with the sleeve of his shirt. He sat down next to the pillar, his legs tucked under him and his eyes closed.

-ooo-

Mikoto could move with catlike silence when she tried, but this time she scuffed the heels of her sandals against the hard-packed dirt. Naruto lifted his head from the stone and blinked at her. "I thought I might find you here," she said, moving to join him. It seemed she hadn't gone home after all; she was still dressed in her stark black mourning clothes. "I wanted to tell you—I spoke with Shikamaru's father. He assures me he'll be back on missions in a week or so."

He nodded his understanding. Mikoto crouched opposite him, smoothing out her long black skirt.

"Why... why would someone do that?" Naruto asked.

Mikoto stood again, to run her fingers over the names higher on the stone, until she found what she was looking for. She gestured Naruto rise as well. Beneath her fingertips he saw, three lines below Uzumaki Kushina, two names he'd never paid much attention to before: Umino Hanaki, Umino Yuihara. There were no indications of rank surrounding the names; from an untried genin to a kage, in death no shinobi's sacrifice was greater than any other.

"The same reason everyone else here did," she said. "To protect our future."

Naruto's fingers traced their way to the same line on which Mikoto's rested. "They were Iruka-sensei's parents."

"Mm. They died defending the village from the Kyūbi. To protect him."

"But _why?_" Naruto asked the silent stone. "How does someone decide to do something like that? I was so scared I thought my heart was going to stop."

"I'm sure he was too, Naruto. Every shinobi holds that balance inside them, and no one knows which way the scales will tip until the choice is right in front of them. In the moment he pulled himself in front of you, Iruka decided he loved you more than he feared death." She lifted her hand to place it on his shoulder. "It's all right to miss him, because I will. He gave you a gift. Be grateful. Use it well, and wherever he is now I know he'll be proud of you."

He let her draw him closer, drinking in the comfort of a mother's touch like a little boy. Since they were alone, there was no need to bow to that old chestnut that claimed shinobi never cried. The grass around the Memorial Stone was practically watered with tears.

She stroked his back until the sniffling subsided and he pulled away, drying his face on the offered tissue. "There's... there's something else I need to ask you. When we were fighting Kidomaru, I started feeling really strange. I felt something in my head that wasn't _me_. It was almost like there was another voice, talking to me."

"Did it say anything to you?" Mikoto asked, keeping her voice carefully level.

Naruto shook his head. "Not that I could understand. It was like it was coming from really far away. But I got so _angry_. My body and my chakra felt different." He swallowed. "Am I going crazy?"

"No. No, you're not," she assured him, giving his shoulders one final squeeze. "Go to the Hokage's office tomorrow. Tell Cat what you told me. She'll make sure the Hokage finds time to see you as soon as he possibly can. He can explain everything."

"Why can't you? He's always so busy, he doesn't..."

Mikoto shook her head. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. All I can tell you is that you're _not _crazy, Itachi and I have known for a long time, and it hasn't made us love you any less." She took a few steps on to the grass. "Now come on. Let's go home."

-ooo-

The next day, after a half-heartedly completing a window-washing mission, Naruto went home to change out of his dusty, soapy clothes and made his way to the Hokage's Tower. Most visitors required an appointment several days in advance, but Naruto was not most visitors. He trudged to the the office on the top floor, unmolested by the staff, who were content to leave him alone now that thumbtacks had stopping mysteriously appearing on their office chairs.

The polished red doors were shut. Naruto frowned at them. "Hey Cat. I have to talk to the old man," he announced to the air.

An ANBU agent in a feline mask materialized out of the wall. A few locks of violet hair could be seen peeking out from under her hood. She showed up at the Uchiha mansion often enough, usually wearing a pretty white dress and no mask, under the name Uzuki Yūgao. She been one of Mikoto's students, and then Itachi's subordinate in ANBU when he still captained a team. "He's in meetings all day," the woman said, apologetic. "You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Naruto glanced up and down the hall. They were alone. "My mom said you could ask him to see me today. When that spider guy tried to grab Sasuke, it made me feel really bad, inside my head. Like I was so angry I was going to explode." He looked up to the expressionless mask, his eyes full of pleading. "Please, Yūgao-oneechan," he whispered. "I'm scared something is really wrong with me."

"Why don't you go wait downstairs. I'll see if you can come in after he finishes his two o'clock."

"I never had lunch. Can't we meet at Ichiraku like usual?" Naruto asked.

"I believe he'd like to keep your conversation private," Yūgao replied, her voice tight. "I can have some sent up, if you like."

"You don't know anything about ramen. It would get _soggy_," he huffed.

"There's some leftover pastries in the break room," she offered instead.

"With cream inside?"

"Possibly."

Naruto reluctantly let himself be led to the staff lounge to wait. There was a full pot of coffee (which he detested for smelling a hundred times better than it tasted), a basket of tea bags, and the promised pastries. He made himself a cup of tea from the electric kettle and selected the two most promising pastries from the plastic tray.

They were completely stale. He scooped the filling out and threw the rest away, which didn't do much to take the edge off of his hunger. He was licking the last sticky remnants from his fingers when Cat returned to lead him back to the red doors.

"The Hokage will see you now. Take as long as you need," she said softly, and went back to her post.

Naruto slipped into the room and shut the door behind him.

Hokage looked up from the document he'd been skimming. "Lock that, if you would."

Naruto did as he was told, uneasily flipping the bolt home. He inhaled the characteristic scent of the room—tobacco smoke, paper, wood polish—and let the breath out in a heavy sigh. The Hokage's door was _never _locked_._

Usually, the words just flowed right out: news about his progress in the Academy, the techniques Itachi was teaching him, the way Sakura sort of smiled in his direction the week before. This time they'd been dammed up by the lump in his throat. The Hokage pushed his chair back and stood, gesturing for Naruto to join him at the windows. "Losing a teacher is a hard thing, especially knowing that he gave his life to keep you safe," he said. "The Niidaime Hokage, my jōnin sensei, did the same for my team when I was a young man, during the First Great Shinobi war. It may not seem like it now, but your heart won't ache this much forever."

"Are you sure?"

"I promise," he said gently, and linked his hands behind his back. "Cat says something strange happened to you during your battle with the Yugagakure shinobi—in which you and your friends performed admirably, by the way. Your parents and I couldn't have asked for better, going up against two chūnin-level shinobi a week out of the Academy."

Naruto accept the compliment with a weak smile, which faded as quickly as it had come. "There's something inside me that's _not _me," Naruto explained. "I think it's bad. I don't like it."

"I always knew you were more perceptive than your abysmal test scores let on," the Hokage said, prodding another tiny smile from Naruto. "Mikoto has told you a great deal about your mother, I know—how powerful a kunoichi she was, the strength her chakra. What she did not—and _could not_—tell you, at my orders, was why.

"When she was five years old, Uzumaki Kushina was sent to Konohagakure by her father, the leader of Uzushiogakure, for a thankless, dangerous, mission that was not to end until the day she died."

"He sent his own kid away? Why? Didn't he care about her?" Naruto asked, aghast.

"Of course he did. But he also cared for the people of his village, and for those in Konoha, who had been allies as long as the two villages had existed. It was a very difficult decision and making it tore out his heart. The Second Great War broke out shortly after my wife took her away from her homeland, and Kushina never saw her parents again. But she was a strong child, you see. She was so strong she never let despair or hatred overtake her, no matter how many poor turns her life took. It was for this quality that she was chosen."

"Chosen... for what?" Naruto asked in a small voice.

"To become the vessel of the Kyūbi no Yoko. As you were chosen, the day Madara killed your mother and set the demon loose upon us."

Naruto choked, as if his lungs had became one size too large for his ribcage. "I really _am_ a demon? All this time people—"

"_No!_" the Hokage said forcefully. "No, Naruto, you are not and have never been anything but a boy. Iruka's parents were killed by the Kyūbi. Do you really think he would have given his life for such a creature? The Uchiha lost almost a quarter of their clan to it, and yet they have taken you into their homes, cared for you, loved you. Those in this village who hate you for the creature you're restraining are small-minded, petty people. I gave the order for them to keep silent in the hopes that their children would grow up to see you as a person, without the prejudice that tainted the hearts of their parents. I didn't work as well as I'd hoped. One of many mistakes I've made over the years.

"_You_ can tell whoever you wish, but take care that they are people who know and trust you."

"Should I tell Sasuke and Sakura?" Naruto asked.

"When you're ready. It will be difficult for them to accept. Be prepared."

"Is it… going to happen again? The seal coming loose, I mean?"

"To be honest, I don't know. Uzumaki Mito was the first jinchūriki of the Kyūbi, and she was the most powerful fuinjutsu master the world has ever seen. The seal she created lasted until she was more than a hundred years old. It was the envy of every other village. Kushina likewise never completely lost control of the fox; Madara tore it out of her."

A strong hand took Naruto by the shoulders. "You take after your birth mother in so many ways, Naruto. Kushina's will was a match for the same demon your face now. Don't be afraid—I know you'll follow her in this as well."

Naruto leaned forward on his crossed arms, pressing his forehead against the window glass. "I'll prove it to them all," he said. "Like I did to Iruka-sensei. I'm not a demon. I'm _me."_

-ooo-

After Naruto had gone, the Hokage waved in his Jōnin Commander for what he knew was going to be an unpleasant conversation. Nara Shikaku bowed briefly before the desk, his scarred face oddly gentle.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," the Hokage said.

"It's all right," Shikaku answered. "You just told Naruto-kun about the Kyūbi, didn't you. Poor kid had it written all over him. How'd he take it?"

"Better than I would have expected."

"I'm hoping Shikamaru takes it in stride when the truth makes its way to the other genin. They spent so much time playing hooky with Chōji in the throwing range I'd hate to see those good times go up in smoke."

"We'll known soon enough, I suspect," the Hokage said, sighing. "You mentioned this morning you found something strange during your analysis of Kidomaru's corpse?"

Shikaku handed a file folder to the Hokage and stuck his hands in his pockets as he prepared to summarize the report. "What it looks like on the surface is that he was a member of the Jashinist cult holed up in Hot Water Country. It's being led by an ex-Yugagakure jōnin named Hidan, and his particular sect is extreme even by their standards. Their goal seems to be turning Yugagakure back to a functioning military base again... they've staged terrorist attacks on the new hotel construction and abducted and tortured tourists, that sort of thing. One could assume they're trying to harvest dōjutsu in preparation for something big. Assassinating the daimyo, for instance."

"One could. I take it you didn't?" the Hokage asked.

"Kidomaru was wearing their symbol on an armband beneath his shirt, as well as carrying a book of that repulsive stuff they call their scripture. I don't think he was actually a Jashinist. There was some superficial ritual scarring on his chest and arms, but it was a little too fresh and a little too cleanly healed. It's all about pain. They wouldn't use medical ninjutsu on devotional scars. Defeats the whole purpose. I also double-checked his equipment, and the leatherworker that manufactured his shin guards, sandals, and bracers sells exclusively to Kumogakure. It's possible he killed one of their men and took his gear, but that every piece would fit him like they were custom-made is a little hard to swallow."

The Hokage lowered his forehead into his hand. "This is going to be the mess with their Head Ninja all over again. I should have known Ei wouldn't let go of his father's failure to bring Kumo a byakugan."

"Do you want me to keep it quiet?" Shikaku asked. "The only other people that know the details don't match up are the medical examiner and a few of my research staff."

"Don't bother. If any two members of the Jōnin Council are going to be able dig the truth out of them, it's Hyūga Hiashi and Uchiha Mikoto."

-ooo-

In the days that followed, tensions in the village cinched tighter, within the Uchiha district and without. Memories of Hinata's abduction welled up in the village gossip. Several of Konoha's great clans, the most vocal of which were the Uchiha and Hyūga, began pressing the Hokage to begin planning a retaliatory strike against the Raikage. Citing concerns that the assailants had never been caught, the few genin in service that possessed dōjutsu were recalled to the village. Messages flew thick and fast between the aviaries of Konoha and Kumo.

It was quickly decided birds would not suffice, so the Raikage announced he was sending two of Kumo's top jōnin to plead his innocence. Until they arrived, the Hokage, sensing the village was nearly boiling with frustration, refused to take any other action until calm was restored. A fourth war was not something he intended to start without a great deal of consideration.

Confined within the high walls, Sasuke and Naruto threw themselves into their training with punishing ferocity. Not wanting to be outpaced, Sakura followed. So did the rest of their former classmates. They were children who had grown up in a rare lull in the fighting between the nations, too young to remember the Kyūbi's attack if they'd even been born at the time. Some had seen death before, by old age or sickness, but never by violence. In the quiet nights, some thought about resigning, as tears for their fallen teacher slipped down their faces.

Then the morning would come, and none of them did. They were going to be great shinobi, all of them. Iruka had told them so.


	4. Chapter 4

**Beta Credits**: Go to the Dark Lord Potter forumgoers, chiefly Agayek, Axelgreese, The Berkeley Hunt, Datakim, Disposable Head, Drynwyn, Inert, Luckykas, and Sechrima. If we missed a typo, kindly point it out in your review and I will correct the error.

**A Clarification**: Several people have expressed reservations about how buddy-buddy Team 7 is becoming. This is not because I intend to write a BigHappyFamily!Team Seven fic with no interpersonal conflict. It's so it _hurts even more_ when their relationships start falling apart. Which they do. Starting... more or less now.

* * *

><p>.oO Chapter 4 Oo.<p>

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><p>Traditionally, a small celebration was held whenever a young Uchiha awakened their sharingan. Besides being a place to reaffirm such things as clan loyalties and shinobi duties, it brought the family together. Older relations would bring a few gifts, pinch a few cheeks, and trot out family anecdotes to the embarrassment of their subjects and the amusement of everyone else. It was a respite, an excuse to forget the troubles of the outside.<p>

And if the Uchiha Clan needed anything, it was an excuse to forget their troubles.

"What is _wrong _with you?" Mikoto shouted, one hand on her hip and the other clutching a sticky paring knife, the business end of which was hovering uncomfortably close to her husband's neck. She was wearing a stained apron thrown over a pair of blue fatigues, her hair caught up in a sloppy ponytail. "I've been in the kitchen since the crack of dawn! Couldn't you at _least_ have cleaned up the stack of reports that's been on the coffee table for a week? We converted Itachi's old bedroom into your office for a reason! And don't even get me started on the beer cans—"

"I said I was sorry! How many time do you want me to apologize?" Daishiro interrupted, leaning away from the blade with his brows pursed in annoyance.

"I don't want you to apologize. I want you to _stop_. You knew when you married me that I wasn't going to be the kind of wife who'd pick up every dirty shirt and wash every dish, and you still leave them all over the place. You're almost as bad as Naruto, but _you _haven't had the excuse of being a twelve-year-old boy for twenty-five years!"

"When did I say I expected you to be 'that kind of wife'?" Daishiro answered, insulted. "If you're that busy, try _not_ cleaning the house obsessively for hours on end. It's not going to come crashing down on our heads because the bookshelves are dusty!"

From the doorway around the corner, Sasuke and Naruto exchanged glances. Without speaking, they shut it again to sneak into the kitchen through the back, the argument still buzzing in the hall.

The family maid had come by early to assist Mikoto in scrubbing the house until it gleamed. Uchiha Iriko was now carefully plating the refreshments her mistress had taken the day off to prepare, the baby on her back providing a running commentary of babbled syllables and squeals. She was a small, mousy woman, tending toward plumpness since the birth of her daughter. "Is Mikoto-sama still going at it?" she asked Sasuke in hushed voice. "The guests are going to be arriving in less than fifteen minutes."

"Mm," he answered, eyeing the spread. It was tailored to the precise tastes of the guest of honor—bite-sized works of art Sasuke would usually have been delighted to eat by the trayful. It was rare enough that he got the opportunity to enjoy his mother's cooking, but it had been difficult for him to muster up an appetite for much of anything, lately. Since the fight on the riverbank, the smell of meat searing had become nauseating.

"I know she's under a lot of stress, but I wish she wouldn't take it out on Daishiro-san, even if he does make my job twice as hard as it has to be," Iriko said, sighing. "Would you two mind taking the ice water out to the yard? I'm never going to finish these in time."

"Yeah, sure," Naruto said, hefting a tray full of glasses and carrying them to the table that had been pulled into the garden. It was a simple, elegant expanse of white gravel, moss, and neat evergreen shrubs, all encircled by a stone wall trimmed in clay tile.

Sasuke followed, with two pitchers of ice water. He set them down on the table and put his hands on his hips to survey the yard, then crossed to the nearest of the paper lanterns to lift the cover and light the oil reservoirs hidden inside. The sun was still high enough in the sky their light wasn't strictly necessary, but it made the fan symbols painted on the paper glow like embers.

Naruto poured himself a glass of water and folded down into the moss as Sasuke moved from lantern to lantern. He took a few sips, seemingly enthralled by the iridescent carapace of a beetle as it trundled across the carpet of green.

"Okay, to be honest, you being this quiet is weirding me out," Sasuke said, once he'd finally circled back. "Usually you go crazy for parties."

Naruto blinked at the bug. "...what?"

"The moping you've been doing all morning," Sasuke explained. "It's just not like you."

"Sorry. Didn't realize."

"No, I mean... if you're still thinking about Iruka-sensei, you don't have to apologize. That is what's been bothering you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess," Naruto murmured.

The faint crunch of footsteps on gravel announced Itachi's arrival, bypassing the house itself to greet Sasuke first. He was still in uniform from a day at the Hokage's tower and had a long, narrow box in his hand. He held out the gift to his brother. "You can peek as long as you remember to act appropriately surprised later."

Sasuke tugged the complex knot of ribbon toward the end of the package and lifted the cover a fraction.

"Chakra-conducting wire," Itachi explained.

"Thanks," Sasuke breathed. The wire was a simple gift, but gloriously useful... and very expensive. Infused with the user's chakra, they could bend and twist it into any shape they chose, and when infused it became almost impossible to cut. "I'll put it with Mom's. I think we're collecting gifts on the coffee table." He tucked the box back together and ducked into the doorway to put it away.

Itachi poured himself a little water, swirling the ice around in the glass. Naruto was back to staring at the beetle. "Are you all right?" Itachi asked.

"Yeah. Just tired today," Naruto answered.

"That is an acceptable excuse... for anyone but you," Itachi said. He looked up at the snap of a door against the frame; Mikoto strode across the stones and triumphantly laid down two trays of hors d'oeuvres. The apron and fatigues had been replaced by a trim dress. Itachi caught her gently by the elbow before she could head back inside. "The Hokage told me Naruto came to see him yesterday. And why."

She made a small noise and turned back to her sons. "Naruto, why didn't you tell me you'd already gone? If there's anything you need to ask me, we have a few minutes..."

"You only start yelling at Dad when the Clan Council meetings are going the opposite of the way you want. I didn't want to bother you." Naruto drained his glass and dropped it in front of his ankles. "How long have you and Itachi known?"

"Since the sealing was done. Are you angry we never told you?" Mikoto asked.

He shook his head. "The Hokage said you were under orders, so I'm not mad. It's so big I feel like I can't fit my head around it yet, and that's not really why I feel so..." He stopped to sigh, dropping his chin against his cupped hand. "It's not that I'm not happy for Sasuke," he said, a touch defensive. "Because I am."

"But...?" Mikoto prompted.

"You're never going to throw one of these for me. No matter how hard I train, there's nothing in my eyes to wake up."

"You are still an Uchiha," Itachi said. "It did take time, but most everyone has accepted you. Some are quite fond of you. And in any case, not everyone born into the clan inherits the potential. Look at Anzu. She has no sharingan, and she's already a jonin in direct service to the daimyo."

Naruto forced out a smile. "My head knows that. It's just harder than I thought to convince the rest of me."

His mother knelt and enveloped him in a brief hug, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

Naruto made a face and wiped at his already untidy hair. "_Mom_," he complained, glancing at Itachi, who had pressed his lips together in one of his faint smiles. "What was that for?"

"No reason."

The doorbell chimed, and a few moments later a small, pink whirlwind came tearing into the garden. Her name was Uchiha Hatomi, she was three and a half years old, and her favorite activity in the entire world was playing ninja with her cousin Naruto. She scrambled over the rocks and dove behind his back, smudging her glittery pink dress with dust. It came complete with an equally glittery belt and one of her father's old shuriken pouches that Naruto had grudgingly assisted her in painting over with nail polish. A close second to playing ninja with him was playing _princess_ with him. Preferably at the same time.

"Sweetheart, this is Sasuke's party, so you have to at least say hello to him," her father said, trudging in after her. Yuji was Mikoto's younger brother, and within the last few years he'd done a commendable job of trading in nights spent with sake bottle to nights spent with baby bottles. He greeted his sister, Itachi, and then Naruto, whose smile quickly became more genuine.

"Sasuke-san is _mean_," Hatomi declared, peering around Naruto's collar. "Don't want to."

Naruto nudged her chin off his shoulder and stood up. "How about I come with you, and if he says something mean I can kick him."

"Naruto!" Mikoto mock-scolded. "Come on, Hatomi-chan. I think we still have some of those gummy candies you like in the cupboard."

Hatomi solemnly considered this, then extended her arms to let her aunt pick her up.

"Thanks," Yuji mouthed, as Mikoto hefted the little girl and marched back to the cool interior of the house with Naruto. "Mind if I smoke out here?" he asked Itachi. "Wife gives me an earful if I light up at home."

"It doesn't matter to me," Itachi said.

He pulled the pack from his jacket pocket and lit one with a puff of his breath; most Uchiha had no need for matches. "She's turning into a little terror. Good thing she's so goddamn cute to go along with it, and, you know, there's _help_. I remember Obito used to haul you around exactly the same…." he began, only to trail off into an uncomfortable silence. Obito had been one of the first Uchiha to die, before the end of the third war. In no small part, it had been his death that brought _about_ its end. And now a fourth was looming, another loop around the neverending spiral, another crop of young Uchiha sent to meet horrible ends. Yuji pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and ground it into the gravel.

"What the hell am I doing? She's right, these _are_ terrible for me," he muttered, and strode back into the house without another word.

Over the next few hours, the spacious mansion filled with friends and neighbors. The pile of gifts grew to a nearly unmanageable size. Everyone was very careful to smile, very careful to ignore the ANBU agents hovering in a protective pattern around the roof. Sasuke thanked his relations curtly for their gifts and said very little else. Today, even _Itachi_ seemed more personable in comparison. Naruto tried to lighten the mood, but those that knew him well, and even some that didn't, could see his attempts were only halfhearted at best.

Sasuke could not help but heave a sigh of relief when everyone had left. Mikoto set her two youngest sons to tidying up the detritus from the gift unwrapping while she attacked the mound of dishes.

"Six tomorrow, Field Seventeen?" Sasuke asked Naruto, as he stuffed wads of torn paper into a trash bag.

He paused to lean against the broom against the wall of the living room. "I told Sakura-chan it would be eight."

"I know you did. Sometimes I like to train without my own personal cheerleading squad."

"Aw, come on. She's not that bad," Naruto said. "Actually... I can't remember her doing that once during the last few sparring sets."

Sasuke pursed his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you keep track."

Naruto cleared his throat self-consciously and turned his attention back to sweeping up with a vengeance. It wasn't like he kept a diary of it, but every cry of 'kick his butt, Sasuke-kun' did tend to stick uncomfortably tight against his memory. "You can get up at butt-crack o'clock and beat up the posts if you really want," Naruto said finally, "but I'm coming at eight and not a minute sooner."

"Hn. Fine," Sasuke sighed. "It's eight."

-ooo-

With more effort than it should have required, Sasuke peeled his eyelids apart to look up at the spindly branches scraping against the sky. The rest of his field of vision was packed with worried faces and chainlink fence. His hand went to his temple, and he groaned. The side of his head was sticky and the rest of it hurt like hell.

Sakura especially looked like she was about to burst into tears. This wasn't really unusual for her, but what she said to him next couldn't be properly processed by his battered brain.

"I didn't mean to and I am _so sorry_!" Sakura wailed. "I mean, I sort of did, but I'll make this up to you, I promise, I—"

"Sakura, _please_," Itachi said, pushing her firmly away. "You were sparring with him. The entire point is to disable your opponent." He eased Sasuke up into a sitting position. After hastily brushing most of the woodchips out of his brother's hair, Itachi secured a thick pad of gauze against the shallow but impressively bleeding cut on the side of his head. "Drills are over for today. I'd suggest both of you go for a few laps around the wall."

"I'm fine," Sasuke said, rising in a fashion that indicated he really wasn't. "I want to keep going."

"This isn't negotiable," Itachi answered. "A blow to the head that leaves you unconscious for even a minute is a brain bleed until proven otherwise. We are going to the emergency room if I have to carry you."

"Can you even _see_ this?" he asked crossly, indicating the bloodstained hitai-ate he'd pushed down to encircle his neck. "I'm not that little kid you need to carry around piggyback whenever he gets a boo-boo."

"It's kind of standard practice, Sasuke-kun," Sakura said in a small voice. "And I made you hit your head really, really hard, so I'd really, really like you to get checked out by a medic."

Sasuke blinked at her, then looked at Naruto in utter disbelief. "Wait... Sakura knocked me out?"

"Uh, yeah. You were going for best two out of three, remember? And then she genjutsu'ed you so good you misjudged the jump and whacked your head on a pole." He flipped his thumb over his shoulder, towards the network of bars, rings, and tall wooden posts used to practice acrobatics. He grinned and clapped the girl on the back, who shoved him away with a roll of her eyes. "So much for not needing your sharingan when you spar with Sakura-chan."

The unsteady, glazed expression remained fixed on Sasuke's face. "Now you're just messing with me."

"Severe confusion," Itachi explained. "Yet another reason I would like you to get medical—"

"Itachi-sempai!" an ANBU operative called, as he materialized out of the dirt beside the fence anchors. Although he was dressed in the full cloak, Itachi recognized his mask as belonging to one of the messengers. "The Hokage needs to speak with you as soon as possible."

He left the small knot of genin to fuss over Sasuke and crossed over to where the man was waiting. "What is it?"

"The Raikage's envoys will be arriving earlier than we expected, and he has some points to discuss with you before they do."

Itachi looked back at Sasuke, who was still stubbornly insisting he was fit to continue the matches. Itachi was to act as liaison to the two men, experienced jonin who had come to plead Kumo's innocence in the matter of his brother's abduction. It wasn't a task that could be put aside. "I'll go with you in a moment," he told the agent.

"The Hokage has requested an emergency meeting with me," he told his students. "Sakura, Naruto—I need to you to see Sasuke to the hospital. If they admit him, I would appreciate at least one of you staying until the medics have stabilized him."

"I will, Sensei," Sakura piped up.

"Great," Sasuke grumbled. "Like I need you to fawn over me."

"Thank you, Sakura," Itachi said, and then disappeared along with the ANBU messenger in a swirl of leaves.

"Come on," Naruto said. "You need a hand or can you walk?"

Sasuke stared petulantly at him for a few moments. "A hand where? I told you we're not done training."

"The hos-pi-tal," Naruto said. "Weren't you listening?"

"Leave him alone, stupid," Sakura scolded, taking Sasuke's arm in a firm but gentle grip and steering him down the slope to the exit. "Intense disorientation and impaired judgement are both symptoms of a serious concussion," she said, as if reciting from a manual. "Take his other arm and hold him up. If he falls again it's bad news."

They dragged their increasingly pale and unsteady teammate to the gates of Konoha Hospital, which thankfully wasn't far from their chosen training ground. Naruto looked apprehensively at the multiple branching hallways and bustling staff. "So where do we—"

"ER is this way," Sakura said, not even stopping to glance at the signs.

"Wow, Sakura," Naruto said. "You really know your way around."

She glanced at him briefly from beneath her lashes. "I used to come here a lot," she said softly, with an odd catch in her voice. She led them both down a few turns into a large room labeled 'EMERGENCY' in glowing red characters. It was filled with plastic chairs and plastic plants, and had a single high desk at the front of the room tended by a square-jawed older nurse. Sakura helped Sasuke into one of the empty chairs, where he promptly folded over with his head cushioned on his crossed arms. "How're you doing?" she asked.

"Is this what being drunk feels like?" he asked no one in particular. "I don't like it." He moaned softly, and then added, "I'm not going to puke. I'm _not_."

"I'll check him in with the triage nurse. Wait there," she ordered Naruto.

"Hello, Sakura-chan," the nurse said, smiling at her briefly. "Patient's name and chief complaint?"

"Uchiha Sasuke. Suspected Grade Three concussion. He blacked out for a minute or so after a training, um... accident. Symptoms are headache, nausea, disorientation, short-term memory loss. Maybe irritability, too. With him it can be sort of hard to tell. No visible skull deformity, no fluid drainage from ears or nose, but I don't think his pupils are dilating like they should be."

The nurse finished scribbling down the notes and tossed the file into a tiered tray next to her. "Somebody was paying attention in first aid class," she said warmly. "Take him to Exam Seven, you know where to find the ice packs. There might be a bit of a wait until one of the medics can see him. We just had an emergency transport of a whole platoon that tangled with two Oto teams." She shook her head in disgust. "It was brutal, but at least they brought back a couple of prisoners."

With some coaxing, Sakura and Naruto managed to pull Sasuke upright again and led him to the empty room. It was small and cramped, containing two gurneys, a few machines with blank black screens, and several cases of latex gloves piled up in the corners. She helped him up on the bed and then went poking through the supply cabinet until she found a basin, since it looked like nausea was seconds away from triumphing over willpower.

"Aw, nasty, Sasuke!" Naruto shrieked. "Why'd you have to go and—"

"It's not his fault—a lot of people vomit after head injuries," said crisply. "If you can't be mature about this, you are going back to the waiting room." Over his objections, she took a handful of his sleeve and marched him back down the hall. On the way back she grabbed an ice pack and a towel, and waited by the door until it sounded like Sasuke's stomach had calmed down.

Sakura pushed open the door to find him lying on the gurney. She laid the ice pack over Itachi's hasty bandaging. "Feeling any better?" she asked.

"No," he whispered, not bothering to open his eyes.

After rinsing out the basin, she pushed herself up on the hard mattress to help him hold the cold pack in place. The hands of the clock were crawling, and after fifteen minutes she was chewing on her lip in impatience. "I'm going to see if I can find a nurse, okay? Back in a sec."

She poked her head out of the exam room and headed for the nurse's station. Sakura was getting worried. No snappy comebacks. No insults. Not even an inarticulate growl whenever she adjusted the towel against the gash on his head.

Itachi had been showing her how to manipulate perception of terrain to use an opponent's strength against them, but she hadn't actually intended to _break_ Sasuke while she was practicing it. Maybe trip him up or something, just long enough for her to win a match for once. A small part of her was squirming uncomfortably against the thought of what she'd just done. If he'd been her enemy and not her sparring partner, that blow to the head could easily have been enough to kill him without medical treatment.

"Excuse me," she said, as she approached the desk. "Uchiha Sasuke in Exam Seven has a concussion and he's getting worse pretty fast. Is there any way to get him bumped higher?"

"I was about to head over as soon as I grabbed his chart," one of the medics said. The doctor assigned to him was a stocky man somewhere between twenty and thirty, with a kind-looking round face and a bumpy burn scar curling across his left cheek and disappearing into his uniform collar. "I'm Kameda Ishimaru, by the way. I know I've seen you around before—you're Haruno Tsubaki's daughter, right? I don't think she's been in lately, which seems like a good sign."

"No, sir," Sakura replied. "As long as she's careful about taking her pills every day, her breathing is much better. Almost back to normal."

"That's good to hear," he chuckled. "So did Naruto finally manage to land a good hit on Sasuke? Usually it's been the other way around."

"Actually, it was me," Sakura explained, puzzled. "And... you know Sasuke-kun?"

"Of course I do—since he was so-and-so big and Sasuke-chan," he said, placing his hands a little over a shoulder's width apart. "His mother was my jonin sensei." He looked up as a nurse delivered the file. "Ah, thanks," he said to her, then motioned Sakura to follow him.

He walked briskly to the exam room and opened the door. "Hello, Sasuke-kun. I heard you got knocked out by a tiny girl," he teased, as he removed the ice pack and began to clip through the bandage around his head with a pair of small scissors.

Sasuke drummed up the energy to open his eyes and glare, although it was significantly less menacing than usual.

"I got lucky," Sakura murmured.

"Sure you did," he replied, checking both of Sasuke's eyes with a penlight. "It's okay. The rest of my genin team were girls, and they could kick me around like a soccer ball."

Sakura giggled. Ishimaru didn't seem worried, so there was no need for her to be either. He linked his hands to gather healing chakra in the palms and placed them over Sasuke's head. Sakura let him work in silence. She liked Ishimaru, she decided. He'd all but admitted to being the weakest on his team, but the rank badge on his white coat proclaimed him to be a tokubetsu jonin nonetheless. Judging by the burn scar on his neck, he'd seen some action, too. There was no way that had been caused by anything other than a katon jutsu.

After he finished, Ishimaru helped Sasuke sit up, who looked a lot more alert than he had fifteen minutes ago. "I brought down the swelling, and there wasn't a fracture or any intracranial bleeding. You're going to feel pretty woozy for a while, but if there'll be someone responsible at home to monitor you for the next twenty-four hours I don't see any reason not to discharge you."

"Uh..." Sasuke began.

"I'll do it, until his mom gets home," Sakura said, and looked to Sasuke. "If that's okay with you."

"Fine," he sighed finally. Spending the afternoon hanging out with Sakura was not high on his list of favorite activities, but it _did_ manage to squeak out a win over staying overnight in the hospital.

"I think you'd qualify," Ishimaru said, nodding. "The nurse will give you paper discharge orders, please read them over carefully and bring him back immediately if his symptoms get worse. He's also on medical leave from missions for the next four days, and there will be _absolutely_ _no sparring _until a medic clears him for duty again. Another knock on the head before this one is healed could leave him with permanent brain damage."

"Then I just won't get hit on the—" Sasuke started.

"_No sparring_," Ishimaru said sternly. "Or you could end up drooling on your knees for the rest of your life. Contrary to popular belief, medical ninja do not issue these orders just to annoy people in the general mission pool."

"Got it, thanks!" Sakura assured him.

Their assigned nurse slipped into the room after Ishimaru had gone, to help Sasuke clean up. When she finished they made their way back to the waiting room, where Naruto was curled up in a on a bench and gnawing a thumbnail. He looked up as she led Sasuke to the empty half and lent a steadying hand as he lowered himself down. She smiled briefly as him and disappeared back behind the swinging doors. The blood running down the side of his face had been scrubbed off, and there was a fresh bandage wrapped around his temples.

"You know who I am? You know who _you_ are?" Naruto asked. He was only halfway joking.

Sasuke twisted his head to look at Naruto. "Shut up, you—" Sasuke began playfully, then groaned and reflexively brought his fingers to the side of his head. Even after the healing session and the two little blue pills the nurse had given him, the tiny motion made his head feel like there were several boulders tumbling around inside of it.

"You sure they fixed you up right?" Naruto asked. His hand had gone immediately to Sasuke's shoulder.

"Got the worst headache of my life," he whispered. "Said nothing was broken, though. I'm okay." He slowly opened his eyes and blinked at Naruto's outstretched hand. "What did you do to your fingernails?"

"Nothing!" Naruto said quickly, and jammed his hand and the badly chewed cuticles between his other arm and chest.

Sakura was a few minutes behind him, folding up a handful of papers into a neat square. She stashed it in her belt pouch. "They decided they didn't have to keep him overnight after all. As long as he doesn't get any worse, he should be fine with a few days of rest and whatever headache medicine you've got at home."

They strolled back to the Uchiha mansion, Naruto draping the still-dizzy Sasuke's arm over his shoulders like it was old news. Sakura found a robe in his closet and ran a bath for him, to wash off the dirt and stickiness from their training session. After he'd cleaned up and changed his mood lightened considerably, although this may have been because he still didn't clearly remember the knock on the head had been courtesy of Sakura. She helped him get settled on the couch and it was unaminously decided a movie was in order.

Naruto pulled open the cabinet and began rooting through the tapes. "Heh. I think this is the one of your little baby self taking a whizz in Itachi's hair," he said devilishly, and pushed it into the VCR. "Sakura's got to see this."

"When I can get up _you're_ getting a concussion," Sasuke growled. "Turn that off before she…."

The screen flickered and stern-looking man in a blue yukata appeared before the camera. In the background was a row of targets filled with darts. The muted noises of a festival buzzed through the speakers. He looked down at a small fist clutching his pant leg and bent down out of the camera's unsteady view. When he rose the heavy frown lines under his mouth had disappeared, and his lips had turned up into an indulgent smile.

"Sasuke-chan. Sasuke?" the woman holding the camera called. "Look over here, sweetheart, there you go. Now show Mama your prize." The little boy proudly held out a pinwheel mounted on a wooden dowel, puffing a few times to try to set the colorful sails spinning. His father pursed his lips and blew more strongly. The papers whirled to life. "Now did Papa have to help you or did you win that by yourself?"

"By myself!" he announced with delight.

The man in blue shifted the child on his hip. "That's my boy," he said, laughing.

"Turn it off," Sasuke murmured, rising from the nest of blankets. "Turn it _off_!"

Naruto smack his hand over the stop button and the screen went to gray snow.

"Careful!" Sakura yelled, diving to steady Sasuke as he barked his shin against the coffee table and almost fell into the glass. She eased him back down on the cushions. "Your balance is still a mess. If you need something I can get it for you, okay?" she instructed him. She didn't bother asking who the man in blue had been. The resemblance to Itachi was unmistakable.

The mischief had faded out of Naruto's eyes. "I'm going for a run. Back later," he said, and slunk out of the room.

Sakura ejected the tape and put it back in its sleeve. She batted one of the cabinet doors aside and made a show of reading over the movie titles. In the reflection of the glass she could see Sasuke wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his yukata and kept her back turned until he finished. Uchiha Fugaku had attempted to lead his clan in a rebellion against the Hokage. He was vicious warmonger, a traitor, an enemy of Konoha. It had never really occurred to Sakura that he had also been a loving father.

"How... how about this one?" Sakura asked, holding up what looked like a bloody war movie about the Sannin's exploits in Amegakure. She wasn't really a fan of the genre, but violence usually seemed to take Sasuke's mind off things he'd rather not ponder. Since doctor's orders kept him from participating in said violence, a vicarious enjoyment would probably be better than nothing.

"Fine," he said, not even glancing at the box. Sakura packed away the homemade tape (making sure to stuff it all the way in the back) and popped in the film, then tucked herself into the armchair beside the television. What she really wanted was Sasuke's head pillowed in her lap, her hands brushing those tears away. It was a part of him she'd never seen before, the kid beneath the cocky genius.

"You can sit on the couch if you want," he said, pulling his legs off the third cushion as the credit began to rolls across the screen. "You won't be able to see from over there."

"Oh... okay," she said uncertainly, and arranged herself so she wasn't _quite_ going to touch him.

Her random choice of entertainment turned out to be a good one, as the film was enthralling. Most of the way through, she'd all but forgotten the man of her dreams was curled up next to her, and his attention was likewise so thoroughly captivated he didn't jerk away when his toes came to rest against her thigh.

Sakura especially liked Tsunade, who was well-endowed with both talent and... other assets, in ways Sakura could only dream of. She was a healer, but not a mousy, gentle, stay-on-the-sidelines sort of healer. Her weapon was the chakra scalpel, and the battles she fought against time and torn arteries were every bit as exciting to Sakura as those her teammates waged against enemy shinobi. And she even took out a few of those herself, too. Jiraiya was uncannily like Naruto, in a loud, dumb, insanely powerful way, although she was very grateful _her_ teammate had not yet attempted to grope her on the sly. Sakura glanced down at her chest. Not that there was much available for groping.

Those thoughts eventually brought her to Orochimaru, and then Sasuke, and the similarities ended. That's what she told herself. Confident, intelligent, skilled beyond their years, each clearly their teachers' favorite student. But there was something _dark_ about Orochimaru. The film was fairly new and he long gone. The actor portraying him had the advantage of hindsight, and there was something sinister about almost every gesture. From what she knew about his defection, it had come as a surprise to everyone, his team most of all. None of them had seen that darkness in the man himself. It made her shiver, to know someone so close and so beloved could turn with so little warning.

The film ended with the team broken, as it had been in life. Jiraiya and Tsunade left the village, with Orochimaru staying only a little longer to further his own ambition. It was rather depressing, and Sakura decided that was absolutely _not _going to happen to Team Seven.

"Are you hungry at all?" Sakura asked, after flicking off the television. "I can heat up some leftovers."

Sasuke made a face. "I still feel pretty sick, but ask Naruto what he wants. He's moping around in the garden."

"How did you—" Sakura began, and then remembered who she was talking to. Top marks in _all _the tracking exercises. "Never mind."

"Sakura?" he called.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for sticking around this afternoon," he said, and yawned. "I really hate the hospital. I wasn't looking forward to being stuck there all night."

Sakura accepted the words with a little smile. Maybe it was the concussion talking, but this 'let's be friends' method was working vastly better than she'd anticipated. "No problem," she said. "It's what teammates do."

-ooo-

Itachi was waiting at Konoha's gate for the Kumo contingent, making the two chūnin guarding the gate extremely uncomfortable. At least one of them was among the men that would drunkenly proposition his absolutely-not-girlfriend Uchiha Anzu on a regular basis, and he kept trying to hide behind his clipboard on the mistaken assumption Itachi would actually care.

When the two foreign ninja finally approached, he signaled that the gate guards should rise. He'd already read through all available intelligence on the Kumo shinobi. Darui was the Raikage's unofficial right-hand man, filling roughly the same position Kakashi did for the Hokage. He possessed an elemental kekkei genkai Konoha had yet to identify, but was known to be extremely proficient in its use. His partner Shi's skill set was similar to Itachi's, a genjutsu specialist and sensor who also served as the Raikage's personal field medic. Short of arriving to plead his innocence himself, he couldn't have sent anyone more respected. It could've been a throwaway chūnin diplomat, a sacrificial lamb. But it wasn't. Either Kumo was completely innocent or very, very confident.

"I am Uchiha Itachi, Candidate Hokage. Welcome to Konoha," he said, as they passed under the massive arch. Although his words were blandly pleasant, he'd activated his sharingan as soon as he'd sensed them coming down the road.

Shi didn't even flinch upon hearing his family name, or at his sharingan, but Darui blinked at him uncertainly. Probably his age. At first glance, Itachi easily looked young enough to be a _genin_.

"Thank you," the shorter man said smoothly. "I'm Shi, jonin. My partner is Darui, also a jonin. The Yondaime Raikage sends his condolences for the loss of your man, and would like to assure your Hokage that finding whoever has slandered Kumo's honor is his highest priority."

Itachi didn't miss the emphasis on the ordinal. The attempted abduction of Hyūga Hinata had taken place under the reign of his father, the Sandaime. "The Hokage wishes to speak with you as soon as possible, please follow me," Itachi said, and turned to lead them to the tower. They exchanged a few pleasantries about the journey, Darui contributing only a grunt here and there.

The Hokage ushered them into his office immediately. Itachi took his place behind his right shoulder, his hands clasped at the small of his back. He repeated the introductions and let the Kumo envoys speak their piece.

"I realize Kumo's word has very little weight in this situation," Shi began. "But I can assure you the shinobi who attempted to abduct Uchiha Sasuke-kun were not, and have never been, under the command of the Raikage. It is his belief that someone is attempting to provoke a war between our two nations. He would like the perpetrator dealt with as quickly as possible."

"I would very much like to believe you," the Hokage said, his eyes hard. "I have no desire to throw Fire Country recklessly into a fourth war. However... we were merciful last time. If you fail to convince me of Kumogakure's _complete _innocence in this matter, there will be no more mercy."

"We would like to offer you the results of our investigation," Shi said, indicating a leather-bound file he'd tucked under his arm.

The Hokage relieved him of it and spread the notes and photographs out for Itachi to peruse. On the top was a yellowed, brittle set of autopsy photos. The subject was a young man with very long, dark hair... and six arms. Folded by his side was a mangled uniform with a hitai-ate bearing the symbol of the Rice Country.

"These photos were taken about thirty years ago. The interrogation notes indicated the clan mostly kept to themselves. As you could probably imagine," Shi said, looking at the corpse's multiple limbs with distaste. "Roughly two years ago, what passed for a Hidden Village in Rice was dissolved by an unknown foreign leader after a short internal struggle and renamed Otogakure. We assume most of the shinobi joined him, since very few of them started showing up in the bingo books as rogues. We were hoping Konoha might have more comprehensive information about their leader."

"Oto is intensely secretive," the Hokage said, looking troubled. "Although we share a border, we know almost nothing about them. This material is intriguing but proves nothing."

"Would it be possible for us to examine the body?" Shi asked.

"Yes. This is way," the Hokage said, rising. Four of his bodyguards slipped silently behind the two Kumo jonin as they descended into the basement levels. The medic attending to the secured morgue bowed to the Hokage and extracted a preservation scroll from the racks on the wall. He unfurled it across one of the steel tables and brought the corpse out of storage.

His right side was badly burned, which Shi ignored, concentrating on the pattern of triangular scars across his chest. "There are a few Jashinist enclaves in the south of Lightning Country, including what was formerly their main temple. Darui led the mission to destroy it himself."

With hand hands in his pockets, Darui leaned over the corpse and pursed his brows. "Your Jonin Commander's sharp. This kid wasn't one of them. Whoever worked him over got the symbols more or less right, but a true believer would have layers of scar tissue over months, not just these scratches. That, or his skin would be as smooth as a baby's bottom and he'd be impossible to kill in the first place."

"I thought that was a myth," Itachi said.

"I wish. I cut one of their heads clean off and when it stopped rolling it just laughed at me. As to who they were _reall_y working for? Who knows, but I can tell you it wasn't Kumo. Our Sandaime was hardly the only person to try to get his hands on your dōjutsu.

"That this kid's wearing standard issue sandals doesn't mean much, either. It's true Ishiwa Leather only supplies the military, but _we_ sell off surplus gear to civilian merchants all the time. It's dirt cheap and you can pick up this kind of stuff at any big town in Lightning Country."

"I have one more question for you," the Hokage asked. "We were told you wouldn't be arriving until tomorrow at the earliest. Why the change of plans?"

"Ah, sorry, sorry, I didn't think it would be a problem," Darui said, with a lopsided, faintly embarassed smile. "We ended up catching a ride with a wine merchant going down the river—an old friend of mine—instead of using our tickets on the passenger liner. Kind of a last-minute thing, so a message would've gotten to you the same time we did. It turned out to be a lot faster than I thought."

"The _Ryota_ _Maru _went down off the coast two days ago," Itachi commented. "Caught in the eddy systems around Wave Country and dragged against the rocks, although its course shouldn't have brought it anywhere near the island. There were no survivors. Can I assume your names were on the passenger manifest?"

Shi and Darui exchanged horrified looks over the table. "It was a diplomatic mission," Shi said. "We weren't traveling under aliases."

"How many?" Darui asked.

"Excuse me?" Itachi said.

"How many people were on board?"

"One-hundred sixty-eight, about evenly split between Fire and Lightning citizenship. All civilians."

"Shit," he breathed.

"I will consult with my council about the results of your investigation," the Hokage said. He pushed open the steel door. "One of my men will show you to your rooms; you will be staying in the tower's guest quarters. Please do not leave them without an escort or a very, very good reason. I had originally taken these precautions to protect sensitive information _from _you_, _but to be perfectly honest, I think it is you who may be needing the protection."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Hokage-sama," Shi said, and following after him. He offered no objection to being kept a virtual prisoner. The chance escape from death would have shaken anyone.

Darui did as well, but turned back for a moment. "You're that kid's brother, aren't you," he said, addressing Itachi.

"I am," he replied.

"If you care about him anywhere near as much as the boss does for his little brother, you'd have to be an idiot to think you'd get away with something like this. Like Shi said—we're out of the business of kidnapping kids."

It was ineloquent, but heartfelt. No wonder he'd let his partner do most of the talking—he was no diplomat. "Thank you," Itachi said. His sharingan told him the man was telling the truth, but it wasn't his place to pass judgement yet. In his mind, it was obvious Kumo truly hadn't orchestrated this plot, and the Raikage was as determined as Itachi's mentor not to embroil his nation in a long and bloody conflict. That did leave the question open for who _would_.

-ooo-

Shimura Danzo and Utatane Koharu were standing at the intersection that lead to the conference room where the Hokage was waiting. She murmured something below the threshold of Itachi's hearing, nodded in satisfaction, and then turned to continue on her way.

Danzo stayed where he was. "Itachi-kun... may I have a word with you, if time permits?"

Although given the difference in their ages the suffix was acceptable, no one but the Hokage himself and Itachi's close family dared to use it. Even Koharu and Homura had stopped addressing him with it—Danzo only continued to do so to belittle him. Otherwise he was always perfectly polite to Itachi, hunched over his cane with a frailty that Itachi was sure was completely feigned.

Itachi quashed the desire to pick the old man up by the collar of his robe and pitch him out the window. He was extremely reluctant to pin the word 'hate' on any man, but Danzō had come extremely close to that threshold. If there had been even a speck of solid evidence he'd conspired with Madara to wipe out the Uchiha, Itachi would have had the Hokage eliminate him years ago. But Danzo was like an eel, too slippery to hold on to for long. Without indisputable evidence in his hands, executing old school chums was not something Sarutobi Hiruzen _did_.

"I have a few moments," Itachi said, schooling his features into a mask of politeness.

"You would have been too young to remember the Hyūga Hinata incident in any detail, so a word of advice—do not trust these envoys. Kumogakure's diplomats are never anything of the sort."

"Thank you, but I will make my own decisions on their sincerity," Itachi said. "Villages change with their kage, and the Yondaime has shown no signs of the same sort of duplicity as his father in his dealings with us. I am inclined to agree with the Raikage's suggestion that this situation is more complicated than it appears."

Danzo bowed his head slightly. "Of course. I do not have the gift of seeing the line between truth and lies as clearly you do. My only concern is Konoha's security. My days in the field are far behind me, but please... if I can be of any help in the investigation, do not hesitate to ask."

Itachi thanked him again and continued on his way to the meeting. Although he had been formally retired for years, Danzo's word still had considerable weight among Konoha's shinobi, especially those members of ANBU that had served during his tenure as the division's director. What Danzo had said about his goal was indisputably true—although his methods were frequently repugnant, he'd gotten results. He _did _serve Konoha to the best of his considerable ability, and the village had reaped the benefits. But there was a quiet, unassuming charisma to his bearing that still made Itachi uneasy. He'd wondered, sometimes, which way all of his former peers in ANBU would fall if someone shook the board.

He put the worrisome question out of his mind as he reached for the door handle; there were far more pressing matters to occupy him at the moment. The informal council session had been called in one of the more comfortable conference rooms, Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura on one couch and the Hokage on the other.

Although they'd slowly improved with time, the Hokage's former teammates still persisted in treating Itachi like a child in many ways. For his part, Itachi could never fully forgive them for their endorsement of Danzo's solution to the Uchiha rebellion, although the execution of the plan ultimately proved unnecessary. Unfortunately, once he was Hokage he wouldn't be able to dismiss them outright. He _was_ inexperienced, and as much as he disliked them personally, their loyalty to Konoha was unwavering. Their assistance would be invaluable in a smooth transition of power. It would be best for Konoha if he as least remained civil.

"Itachi... what was your appraisal of the Kumo envoys?" Koharu asked, after looking carefully through the file Shi and Darui had provided and hearing the story of what was probably their failed assassination.

"They were telling the complete and unembellished truth," Itachi answered. "Whoever was behind the abduction, I strongly doubt it was Kumo."

The Hokage bowed his head, his eyes unfocused as if they were gazing into the distant past. "It's Orochimaru. He's finally come back to finish what he started. I'm sure of it."

Allowing Orochimaru to escape into exile had caused the village only grief. The Hokage was supposed to put aside such personal feelings if they would do the village harm. In a moment of weakness, this one hadn't. He had seen not a psychopathic mass-murderer but a lonely, grieving child. After all this time, Itachi suspected traces of those feelings for his former favorite still endured.

"I suspected as much," Homura put in. "That the two assailants managed to get in and out of Konoha's walls completely unchallenged leads me to believe they had a contact on the inside, as well as intimate knowledge of the village's security barrier. That they also evaded our best Inuzuka trackers was... troubling."

Koharu's deep squint deepened even further. "_I_ didn't. We hear not a whisper of him for more than fourteen years, and suddenly he reappears to conveniently clear Kumogakure of the blame for this disaster? Forgive me for saying so, Hiruzen, but I am not the only one in Konoha who believes this is the perfect opportunity to finish what Kumo started ten years ago. Since neither of you have offered anything but circumstantial evidence to absolve them, I will assume it doesn't exist."

"We have nothing but circumtantial evidence they _were_ involved, either," Itachi pointed out.

"I'm putting four more ANBU squads on trying to locate the kidnappers, lost scent trail or no," the Hokage said. "I've already ordered the T & I Division to begin interrogating likely candidates for our traitor. It's simply impossible to reach a conclusion on the information we currently have in our possession."

"Do you suspect Anko?" Homura asked. "Her behavior has always been strange, and she has frequently requested solo missions within the last few months."

"Personally, no," the Hokage said. "She's always preferred working alone, but I don't know where else to begin."

"Didn't Gekkō Hayate's platoon just tangle with a team from Oto?" Itachi added, after a brief and uncomfortable silence. "I believe they brought back a prisoner. I doubt he would be in any shape to turn over to Morino, but one of the Yamanaka might be able to get something from him."

"An excellent idea, I'll send Inoichi over as soon as possible," the Hokage said. "We will continue searching, but it is possible we will not be able to bring the two kidnappers into custody. Itachi..." he shook his head. "I probably don't need to tell you that both your mother and Hyūga Hiashi are out for blood after this. As much as I sympathize with their position, two of Konoha's most powerful clans pressing the rest for war is not what we need right now. _Nor_ do we need any members taking matters into their own hands."

Itachi cocked his head. "I understand. I will have a word with her this evening."

-ooo-

Shinobi had various ways to deal with suppressed frustration. Most of them took it out on training dummies (or each other) in the practice grounds. Excessive consumption of alcohol was another popular option. Mikoto's coping method was, as far as Itachi knew, unique among Konoha's jonin. When his mother was angry, she... cleaned. The household spiders ran in terror from the fury of her broom.

When he wrapped up his obligations in the Hokage's tower—well after sunset—Itachi found Mikoto already at home. Sasuke was upstairs in bed, being soundly trounced by Naruto at cards, who was milking his brother's persistent foggy-headedness for all it was worth. Mikoto was furiously sweeping nonexistent cobwebs from the corners of the kitchen when Itachi walked in. She was gripping the pushbroom bristle-side up like a bo staff.

"I spoke with the Raikage's envoys," he said, to her back. She hadn't paused in her attack against the dusty molding even after she heard him come in the front door. "And I must insist you do not go anywhere near them."

"You 'insist'?" she said, turning next to jam the bristles into the dust coating the tops of the cabinets. "What makes you think I was going to?"

Itachi sighed softly, and then coughed at the cloud of dust she dislodged. "Because I know perfectly well how protective you are of your sons, and how comprehensive your collection of poisons has become. Two of Kumo's senior jonin dropping dead within our walls would not be helpful. And please put that down. What you are doing now is not helpful either."

She whirled the handle around in her fingers, with a fluidity that made Itachi wonder idly whether she had, in fact, ever had the occasion to kill someone with a broom. She tossed it in a corner and flicked aside a few strands of hair from her damp forehead. "I can't stand by and do nothing while the Konoha Council dithers back and forth. I know perfectly well what your opinions are on war. But there are times when one becomes necessary. The other nations are going to start walking all over us unless the Hokage makes a _choice _to prevent that from happening."

"It isn't this time," Itachi said. "Kumogakure was not responsible for the attack on Sasuke."

"Based on what evidence?" she said, planting a hand on her hip. "And don't tell me you believe whatever lies those two envoys fed you."

"They were not lying," Itachi answered.

His mother grunted, skeptical. "As reluctant as we are to admit it, our eyes can't see everything. You could fib circles around me and even _I_ would have a hard time picking out was was true. Is it really that much of a stretch to imagine you aren't the only one? I read Shi's file. If anyone would be able to control their body's responses well enough to fool a sharingan, a medic as experienced as he is would be the most likely candidate, don't you think?"

"Darui wasn't lying either, and from what we know of him he is closely in the Raikage's confidences."

"He could have been kept deliberately ignorant to put you off the track."

"You are reading too deeply into this. Kumo is not the only suspect."

"What?" Mikoto whispered.

"Homura-san suspects Orochimaru may finally have resurfaced. It would be far easier to dress his people in bits and pieces of incriminating gear than for Kumo to plant someone in our midst who could breach our security barrier. It is very likely he has kept or established contact with someone already inside Konoha."

Mikoto went still. "After all this time...? I thought he was dead. And what could he possibly want with Sasuke?"

"How familiar are you with his experiments?" he asked.

"Not very," she said, shaking her head. "Sakumo-sensei loathed him, so I avoided him as much as I could. Beyond that he somehow gave the mokuton to Tiger, all the information I have is hearsay."

Itachi pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down heavily. "I've read the files," he said. "His ambition was overwhelming. His overarching goal was to learn all the jutsu in the world."

"But that would take lifetimes and lifetimes," Mikoto said, joining him on the opposite side of the table.

"Precisely," Itachi said. "The main thrust of his experiments was to _give_ himself that kind of time. When one body wore out, he could shed it, as a snake sheds its skin. A sharingan would save tremendous amount of time, that would otherwise have to be devoted to study." Itachi folded his hands together in front of him. "Kidomaru could have killed Sasuke and taken his head back to Kumo, if simply stealing a sharingan had been his goal. It would have been easier, safer. He didn't."

"You're telling me," Mikoto said, and swallowed hard, "that Orochimaru wants Sasuke's body as his own?"

"It's no longer a secret that our family has inherited Madara's power." His face was just as grave. "Orochimaru's chakra capacity is enormous, and he would required a body whose coils were capable of absorbing it or he risks seeing the host sicken and die. Someone of Madara's lineage would certainly qualify, but he faces a conundrum. A vessel that has come into their full strength would be too difficult to subdue. A vessel far from reaching it would be too fragile for combat for seven or eight years. You and Yuji-ojisan are too old, his daughter is too young, and I am too dangerous."

"Leaving a twelve-year-old freshly graduated from the Academy the ideal choice," she said, finishing his thought for him. "He probably wasn't even trying that hard… getting Sasuke to activate his sharingan would be valuable in itself. What are we going to do?"

"If you can have Hyūga-sama back down along with you, we can stall the other clan heads until there's enough hard evidence to clear the Raikage. If Orochimaru wants this war with Kumo, the Konoha Council is going to do everything they can to stop it, and bring it to him as soon as we can find the pretext. And we can't confine Sasuke in Konoha indefinitely. Until we uncover Orochimaru's agent or agents, he's hardly any safer within the walls than without. Let him start taking missions again. The safest place for him to be is with me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Beta Credits**: Go to the Dark Lord Potter forumgoers, chiefly Agayek, Axelgreese, The Berkeley Hunt, Datakim, Disposable Head, Drynwyn, Inert, Luckykas, Nemrut, and Sechrima. If we missed a typo, kindly point it out in your review and I will correct the error.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 5 Oo.<strong>

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><p>"If we get another weed-pulling mission after this, I'm going to kill myself," Sasuke whispered to Naruto, as his team filed into one of the conference rooms of the Hokage's tower. The man himself, a handful of aides, and some civilian secretaries were seated at a long table parallel to the room's gently curving picture windows.<p>

"You are certainly tearing through these farmwork D-Ranks, aren't you," the Hokage observed, shuffling through the mess of paper littering the table. "Well, it's that time of year. For today, we have potato digging, peach sorting... and weeding."

Sasuke rolled his eyes, too polite to directly contradict his Hokage. Naruto had never been so inhibited. "Oh come _onnnnn_," Naruto moaned in his brother's stead. "Why are we still getting the lamest missions? We graduated four months ago!"

"Naruto!" Sakura said sharply, thumbing him hard in the flank for good measure. "You can't say things like that to the Hokage!"

"D-Rank missions build both teamwork and muscle strength," Itachi said sternly. "As well as giving you the opportunity to work on stealth and tracking techniques in an environment where you are not in danger of taking a kunai to the eye." He exhaled slowly, eyes on Naruto. "And _someone_ has to do them if we all want to eat."

"I won't have to do crap like that when I'm a chūnin," Naruto countered.

"On the contrary," Itachi said. "When you are a chūnin, you can start doing mission reports, supplies requisitions, recommendation letters, quarterly performance summaries…."

The Hokage seemed to be having some trouble clearing his throat after seeing Naruto's horrified face, but eventually recovered and folded his hands on the desk. "You want a C-Rank mission that much?"

"_Yes!_" all three genin chorused.

"Very well," he said. "I know I saw a free C-Rank in here somewhere." He flipped through the untidy pile of papers, pens, and loose scrolls. "Ah, right, there you are, you little devil," he murmured under his breath. "Bodyguard work, commissioned by one Tazuna of—"

The gray-haired chūnin aide at his left side sat up and craned her neck to look over the paper he'd dislodged. "Just a moment, sir," she interrupted. She frowned at the report, scanning over the notes scrawled in the margin, and dropped her voice down to a whisper. "I know I told Miyuki-san to reclassify this as B, at least. Idiot drank up half his mission fee in the pub down the street and lied in the interview to try to get a cheaper team. We finally got the truth out of his son-in-law yesterday. I think it would be best to send those two back to Wave with the squad of chūnin heading to Kumoto."

"We'll still take it," Naruto said.

Her eyebrows high, the woman looked over her glasses. "If I knowingly sent you out on a B-Rank as your first mission outside the village, your mother would have me skinned alive. Just a moment, Hokage-sama, I think there's one in the charity pile." She pushed back her chair and began rifling through the boxes of files behind her. Satisfied with her selection, she showed it briefly to the Hokage, who skimmed the notes and nodded in agreement. "Would this one do, Itachi-sensei?" she asked, handing him the scroll. "One of the monks at the satellite temple needs an escort on a mission to gather a medicinal herb for the monastery hospital. The plant in question is fairly rare and needs to be harvested at just the right time, so he needs a few pairs of hands. Now, because it's for one of the temples, the fee is reduced. I hope that's not a problem?"

"No," Itachi said, before Naruto could object. "It sounds perfect. I'll make up the difference myself. You can put this with the client's deposit," he added, pulling his bank book out of a vest pocket.

"That's rather rude," he said, looking at Naruto, who was trying to sneak a peak at his balance after he wrote out the check.

"You've been taking S-Rank missions since you were our age, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Itachi answered.

"And you hardly ever buy anything, right?"

"I prefer to live simply."

"Come on, I just wanna see for a second," Naruto persisted.

Sighing, Itachi moved his hand.

Naruto's eyes went wide. "That's a lot of zeros," he whispered.

"Would you excuse us for a moment?" the Hokage asked, gesturing at the civilian secretaries at the far side of the table. "There are actually a few classified details to this mission that don't appear on the paper file."

The three women shrugged at each other, then disappeared down the hall for refills on their coffee. Sasuke and Sakura exchanged skeptical glances, but Naruto's eyes had glazed over in wonder. Classified was _interesting._

The Hokage waved them closer. "This isn't just any medicinal herb," he said, pitching his voice dramatically low. "It's cloud poppy. There have been problems with gangs trying to steal the harvest to sell on the black market—depending on how it's processed, it can be made into a medicine or a recreational drug. For this reason the location of the plants must be kept secret."

"Coooooool," Naruto breathed.

"I'll send a message to the abbot that their mission has been accepted," the Hokage said. "The mountain range where the herb grows is west of Konoha, near the Storm Country border, so you'll be meeting him at the temple and then continuing to your final destination. We should have a response back in two days."

-ooo-

As expected, the abbot was delighted to have a team accept so quickly, and urged them to set out as soon as they were able to do so. Naruto and Sasuke spent half the day packing and repacking supplies under their mother's watchful eyes, until Itachi finally intervened to gently direct her back to the kitchen to tend the dinner she had specifically invited him over to share. A genin's first C-Rank tended to be hell on the nerves of their parents, shinobi and civilian alike. Serious injuries were rare, fatalities rarer still, but it was the first time their children would be undertaking the true task of a ninja—combat.

Team Seven set off early the next morning with the blessing of good weather, which held all the way to their first destination. The temple at which their client resided was very different from the main Fire Temple near Konoha. Its buildings curled around the shore of a large lake, and it had no great gate or defensive wall. The order was not a martial one, and this was a place of healing. Laypeople and monks alike were toiling furiously in the yellowing rice paddies to thresh the grain and dry the straw before rain could spoil their efforts. Most of them ignored the team of shinobi, but a few shot them nasty glances as they walked by on the wide earth berm that served as a road between the fields.

"Why are they looking at us like that?" Sakura asked her teacher softly.

"The further from Konoha you go, the more likely it becomes the average person dislikes shinobi," Itachi explained. "Maintaining a hidden village is expensive, and taxes on farmers like these are high. Even when their harvest is poor, a large portion of the rice they grow will end up in Konoha's silos."

Sakura frowned, looking uncomfortable. "You mean we always have enough to eat, even when they don't?"

"In essence."

"That doesn't seem very fair," Naruto chimed in. His sandals ceased scuffing against the dirt as he looked across the countryside. His eyes wandered over the rolling hills, layered with carefully carved terraces like the sleeve of a princess's kimono. The farmhouses dotting the landscape were simple and crude, some of their sharply sloping roofs still thatched with straw instead of modern tile. "They made all of this with just cattle plows and shovels, didn't they?"

"Ah," Itachi agreed, glancing over his shoulder. "Growing rice is hard work."

His face pinched first into confusion, then understanding, then anger. "If these people work as hard as they can and still can't make enough food, then how come nobody's helping them figure out a way to make more food for less work? I can't be the first person in history to notice this might be a problem! Like, a jōnin who could move dirt around could fix up a whole hill's worth of those terraces in an hour or two."

"Farming this way is traditional," Itachi answered. "Their ancestors have done so for generations."

Naruto crossed his arms over his chest. "Why? Because none of us ever offered to help them?"

"Because we are shinobi and they are not. It is the duty of Fire Country's farmers to supply us with our daily rice, and in turn it is _our_ duty to defend their homes and fields from enemy soldiers and brigands."

"But… but if _we're_ the ones taking all their food in the first place, how does that make us any different from—"

Sasuke grabbed Naruto by his pack strap and resumed pulling him down the road. "Would you shut up? People are staring," he complained under his breath. "Why do I sometimes get this feeling that the world you live in and the world I live in are two completely different places?"

Still looking deeply troubled, Naruto remained quiet as Itachi led them through the herb gardens ringing the hospital complex. Their destination was a small traveler's hostel for visitors and family of the patients. The accommodations were basic, just a dormitory with some ancient futons and a ticket good for a bowl of rice and vegetables. Itachi gave them strict instructions not to discuss their mission within the temple grounds, and if pressed claim their sensei was only passing through to pay a visit to a sick friend.

Itachi disappeared into the dark interior of the main hall for several hours, leaving the genin at loose ends. They took their evening meal at the end of one of the long tables in the temple refectory. Despite the harvest-time crowding, several of the monks elected to sit against the walls with their bowls on the floor instead of next to the shinobi team. Naruto especially was bothered by it. He cleaned every grain of rice and shred of cabbage out of his bowl without complaint, and although he glanced longingly at the massive pans in the open kitchen several times he did not ask for seconds.

The next morning, Itachi roused them later than usual, and they took to the road a little before noon. It seemed he didn't want anyone connecting their presence with the cloud poppy harvest. Several hours of walking later, the terraces petered out into tame woodlands, with gaps like broken teeth where the trees had been felled for fuel or new construction.

"So we're meeting the client... where?" Sasuke asked finally, after they'd gone a good three hours out from the temple.

"Right here, as it happens," Itachi replied. He motioned them to a break from the road, a steep, narrow footpath that descended in a switchback to a stream. After the dry summer, the flow was lazy and shallow, exposing much of the stream bed. Atop one of the boulders was sitting a very large man wearing equally large glasses, the folds of his plain gray kesa dusty from the road. He snapped shut his battered book as he heard them approaching, then tipped up his domed straw hat and blinked at Itachi. "Where's your team captain?"

"Kosai-san," Itachi said, who by now was more than used to this, "I am Uchiha Itachi, jōnin, and leader of this mission. We can continue to the mountains as soon as you are ready to move out."

He dropped the book into his pack with grunt. "How old are you?" he asked, sliding his feet into the sandals he'd placed on another of the bare boulders. "And how old are _they_?"

"Old enough to be in command of this team, and complete the mission parameters as specified," Itachi said, icily polite.

The monk shook his head. "Knowing your kind... yes, I suppose they would consider you to be. I am not a betting man, but if I were, I would place good money on the guess that you're not even twenty?"

Itachi arched his brows, but didn't dignify this with any other answer.

"_Our kind? _What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Naruto piped up, incensed. "I'm not some kind of bug!"

"Naruto!" Sakura snapped, as usual adding a bit of violence for emphasis. "Don't be rude to the client!"

"He was rude first," Naruto insisted, rubbing his shoulder. "It's fair then."

"Both of you, stop," Itachi ordered his genin, and looked to Kosai. "Since we will be working together closely for some days, I ask only that you give the same respect to our way of life that I intend to give to yours."

Kosai tightened the pack strap across his chest, hefted his staff, and finally joined the ninja on the banks. He was several centimeters taller than Itachi, and looked down his nose at the younger man for several tense moments before stumping back to the footpath. "Respect," he muttered, his back to them. "What would a shinobi know of respect?"

Naruto opened his mouth to continue the fight, but Itachi grabbed him by a handful of his jacket and jerked him back. "I told you to stop," he said, his voice brooking no argument. "I am your captain and you will do as I say."

"But he—"

"That was an order."

"But I—"

"_Naruto," _Itachi said.

He brought his lips together and swallowed hard, then followed Sasuke and Sakura meekly up the footpath. Itachi let his sharingan drain away before following him. Naruto had never cared much for following orders. As a child, his contrariness had been either endearing or infuriating, depending on his target. But he was no longer a child, and Itachi was no longer simply his brother. Siblings were rarely, if ever, placed on the same genin team, but the Hokage had allowed it for reasons of his own. A test, perhaps. Itachi had had no doubts he would pass it. He was the exception to that unwritten rule; he was _Uchiha Itachi_, he was the exception to every rule.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he _had been_ sure. It was too much to call it a battle, barely even a contest, but whatever it was... Itachi followed the rest of the team with the sinking feeling that he'd lost it.

They walked until sundown in uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the jingling of the monk's shakujō as the tip struck the earth in a steady marching rhythm. His head was shaved, so any gray that may have lurked there could not be seen, but from the creases on his face he looked to be well into his forties. Even so, he seemed used to hard travel, and did not request a pause until it was time to make camp for the night. When the moon had gotten high, he led them off the footpath to a rock overhang, a convenient campsite that had seen some use. There was already a fire pit, lined with stones, and a large square of ground around it had been carefully leveled and picked over for pebbles. Once the fire was going and the soup pot bubbling cheerfully, Kosai fished a flat box of seal tags out of his pack. As the genin watched in curiosity, he pasted them in a roughly rectangular pattern around their bedrolls. A flare of green light shot out from each tag, encasing them in a softly humming dome.

"What kind of barrier is that?" Sakura asked. "Invisibility? Sensor blocking?"

"Keeps out mosquitos," he grunted, returning to his seat on a downed log.

"Just... mosquitos?" she asked.

"And ticks, flies, and scorpions, if you want to be technical."

"No mosquitos tonight?" Naruto said. "That is the awesomest thing that ever... _awesomed! _Did you make those yourself? Can you show me how? I think I've got some blank tags in my pack, but... aw crap, Sasuke, did you bring any ink?"

Sasuke just rolled his eyes and went back to worrying the fire with a long branch.

Kosai started to chuckle, before he remembered he was attempting to be angry with the young man on general principal. "For a shinobi, you're easy to impress. A barrier to keep out a few bugs really isn't difficult to design."

"How many shinobi _have _you talked to, huh?" Naruto asked, bracing his hands on his knees to look hard at Kosai. "When we stopped at your temple, people were pointing and staring like we all had two heads. And not just at me, because I'm used to them doing that at _me_. It was at all of us—two heads. Sensei said it's because there's some rule that says we get to eat all your rice. It's a stupid rule, and when he's Hokage he should fix it."

The monk blinked over the fire at Itachi. "You're going to be the next Hokage?" he said, incredulous. "But you're so..."

"Young?" Itachi finished for him, his voice mild. "And you never answered his question. I imagine it must be a great many, since you feel comfortable speaking about us with such authority."

"I've met my share," Kosai answered, not willing to give ground yet. "If I hadn't been attacked last time I took this trip, I would've taken a handful of novices and been done with it, believe me."

"Is that so?" Itachi asked. "If you have grievances against Konoha, please, do not feel you must hold back on my account."

_"_Well, then in my opinion? You're warmongering parasites that feed off the honest labor of the people of Fire Country. Wherever you go, you leave widows and orphans in your wake. You've taken a holy gift and perverted it into a weapon. Shall I go on?"

"A gift? What gift?" Naruto asked.

"I'm talking about chakra manipulation—what you call ninjutsu," the monk answered. "Of all the things that could be done with it, _you_ insist on using it to kill people. And anyone who leaves your village, and tries to share your precious secrets, your Hokage has slaughtered."

"That's not fair!" Sasuke said, jumping in to defend his brother. "We shinobi protect Fire Country. What would have happened to the civilians during the Third Great War, if our parents hadn't fought to defend you?"

He was silent for a few moments, his jaw loose. "You cannot possibly be that naive. What sort of lies are they feeding you in Ninja School? That Fire Country got involved was your Hokage's fault in the first place."

"But Iwakagure declared war on us," Sakura said. "I got top marks in history. I remember that!"

"Of course they did. What else was the Tsuchikage supposed to do after Konoha shinobi raided one of his mines, and _abducted and tortured_ the entire laboratory crew? And _you_," he said, pinning Itachi with a glare, "don't you dare tell me that what those Yamanaka can do isn't torture. It may not leave any scars, but even a man who's been beaten within an inch of his life still has the sanctity of his own mind intact after his interrogators are done with him. Your Hokage does what he believes to be best for his own, the rest of humanity be damned."

"Itachi-sensei, come on, say something! His story's all messed up!" Naruto insisted. "The old man's a good person! For years he was nice to me when nobody else was."

Their teacher had been listening intently to every word, lifting bites of rice to his mouth and swallowing them without any enthusiasm. "What is there to say?" Itachi asked softly. "All of those things are true."

"W-what are you talking about?" Naruto stuttered.

"The Sandaime has a kind heart. He cares for everyone under his protection, especially those who have no one else. It is also true that he gave the order that tipped Konoha into the Third Great War."

The genin had gone silent and still, as if waiting for something heavy to fall into their midst.

"Iwagakure kept the secrets of creating chakra-conducting metal closely guarded," Itachi continued. "It gave them significant advantages over other villages. The only way for him to secure those secrets for Konoha was through force. You know ANBU maintains a Torture & Interrogation division. What, exactly, did you imagine their work entails?"

"All those people... he wouldn't do something like that," Naruto said, sullen. "I know him."

"So do I," Itachi said softly. "Evidently better than you."

-ooo-

The forests through which they now travelled were aflame with the beauty of autumn. The mountains at the border of Fire Country, at first dusky blue with distance, crawled quickly closer. They were still a good month away from the first snow in the highest elevations, though the morning breezes hinted strongly at the blizzards to come. After a second, and slightly less tense, day of travel, the group had made their second camp. It was a short distance away from a slender waterfall that spilled out of a cleft in the mountain, making everything nearby slippery with mist and moss. The stream it fed had yielded a few chubby fish to Kosai's pole that morning, which he presented to the genin with a halfway-apologetic look on his face. Itachi, fastidious as always, had disappeared around the bend to wash in the frigid water before breakfast.

"Damn, that's cold!" Naruto yelped, after hesitantly dipping a toe into the pool beneath the falls. "Sensei's nuts. I'd rather stink than freeze."

"You're disgusting," Sakura said to him, although she herself had yet to work up the willpower to wash more than her hands, face and feet for the second straight morning. She hefted the package of dried herbs and container of salt Sasuke had asked her to fetch from the tents while he tended to the fire. He'd gotten it burning merrily in no time flat; camping out with an Uchiha did have its advantages. He accept the square of waxed paper and dropped in a few sprigs of herbs with familiar scents but no names Sakura could place.

"You want any help?" Sakura asked him, crouching next to the stone-lined circle. The warmth on her face felt heavenly.

He shrugged and continued stirring the pot. "I got it."

"I feel bad letting you do all the cooking. I can take dinner, and maybe Sensei can take breakfast tomorrow?" she asked.

"_Bad_ idea," Naruto volunteered cheerfully, wandering over to warm his white toes next to the fire. "Itachi-sensei can't cook worth crap. He doesn't want anyone to know, because it would totally ruin his image, but he lives on protein bars, takeout, and Mom's leftovers. The only thing he doesn't mess up is rice, and that's only after Sasuke got him the electric cooker thingy for his birthday a while back."

"You're kidding," Sakura said, giggling from behind her hand.

Dropping a few pinches of salt into the pot, Sasuke shook his head. "He's not. Itachi spent so much time in the field when he was younger he never learned."

"Can't he just... sharingan it?" Sakura asked.

"Too many variables," Sasuke explained. "Even if you get the motions the same, you need to know which flavors go well together, how to choose your ingredients, what things smell like when they're done... and really, I don't think he _cares_. Konoha was still recovering from the war when he was a kid, and I got the feeling anybody that was picky just starved."

"May I?" Sakura asked, extending her spoon. She let a little of the broth fill the bowl and brought it to her lips. "You're really good at this, Sasuke-kun. A lot better than me, anyway."

"I used to help my mother in the kitchen. I learned by watching her," Sasuke said with a shrug. "Didn't you?"

Sakura seemed to fold into herself, and began to fidget with the bottom hem of her qipao. She shifted position to sit against the side of her thigh. "Um... no. I couldn't. She started getting sick a lot when I was about ten—breathing problems. She was in and out of the hospital all the time and didn't really have the energy to do much of that sort of thing with me."

"Oh," Sasuke said, looking away. "Is she...?"

"The medics finally figured out what was wrong with her in my last year at the Academy... it was pretty rare, I guess. They found a medicine that helped a lot... she's mostly fine now."

"So that's why you knew exactly what to do after Shikamaru took that poisoned senbon," Sasuke said quietly.

"I'm sure you don't want to hear about that," she said, waving him off. "Should I tell Sensei we're almost ready to eat?"

Sasuke looked at her, slightly uncomfortable. "I was just curious. If you don't want to tell me about it, you don't have to."

"I kind of wondered about that too," Naruto put in. "When I went to visit him, Shikamaru's mom said he might've died if you hadn't made sure the first aid was done perfectly until the doctors got him on the ventilator. She was really impressed."

"It's not that I _mind_," Sakura assured them. "I just didn't think you'd want to listen to me babble about my family." She smoothed down her tunic, self-conscious. "My dad's a cloth merchant—his company holds the contract to provide Konoha with most of the raw material for our uniforms. He was on the road a lot, coordinating things with his suppliers. My aunt and our neighbors helped us out when they could, but a lot of the time the only one home to look after my mom was me. If she had an attack, I had to be able to be able to keep her breathing until the paramedics got there, or..." she trailed off, leaving the implication unspoken. "I was with her in the hospital so much the nurses started letting me tag along to help with other patients. Never anything big, just lending another pair of hands if they needed it. If it was slow, some of them were nice enough to explain what they were doing, and I picked up a little bit here and there."

"No wonder everybody at the hospital seemed to know you," Naruto said quietly. "I never realized..."

"It's done," Sasuke said. "Hey, Sakura—if you fill up the kettle I can make us some tea."

"Um, sure," she said, hefting it by the handle. She skipped over the rocks to dip it in under the falls. The water abruptly slowed to a trickle, then dried up. "What the..." she murmured, wrinkling her nose.

Sasuke and Naruto looked up in time to see a cascade of transparent tentacles grasp Sakura and wrench her up the cliff face. The only sound was the kettle clanging against the rocks as it fell; her scream was swallowed by the ropes of water that enveloped her mouth and nose.

A man rose out of the—now stilled—surface of the water, like a stream of tea being poured in reverse. He was dressed all in blue and gray, most of his hair and the right side of his face concealed beneath a hood and strips of dark cloth. The symbol of Kirigakure around his neck was bisected by a crooked slash. "A drowning victim will lose consciousness in less than two minutes, and suffer irreversible brain damage after five," he said. "I would say that's about how long _you_ have to decide whether surrendering that monk to me is worth your teammate's life."

-ooo-

They _had_ been followed, and by a master, a sensor with enough skill to mask his presence even from Itachi. He threw his belt pouches on and ran, his vest open and his wet hair staining the fabric dark. He could only assume his enemy was already aware of his location; speed, not stealth, would be his greatest ally now.

He stopped behind a stand of pine, just around the bend of the river. "I'm here," Itachi whispered, through a tendril of genjutsu he had wrapped around the three of them. Kosai stiffened at the prickling of an alien consciousness against his mind. For someone who had never received shinobi training, his senses were sharp. "This man is a jōnin," Itachi continued. "If you want Sakura to survive, you will obey every order I give, starting with these. Naruto, you will _keep your mouth shut_ and guard Kosai-san, there may be other enemies. Sasuke, make the trade in exactly four seconds; my kage bunshin will be taking our client's place."

Chakra sensing was still a _sense_, and now that Itachi was aware of it, he could manipulate it as easily as sight or hearing. Itachi initiated the kawarimi, an invisible snap, and then his clone stood in Kosai's footprints on the stream bank. Sasuke paced backward, drawing a kunai to prick into his back. "Take him," Sasuke said to the man, his voice perfectly tremulous, as frightened as an outmatched genin ought to be. "See if I care. Just... please... don't kill her."

A water whip shot out of the stream, lashing itself around his arms and neck; the clone made no move to dodge. It jerked forward, still wearing Kosai's skin. "That was not very convincing," the man said, and snorted, making no motions to release the weakly struggling Sakura. He inclined his head toward the false Kosai. "Was it, Sensei?"

The whip tightened around the clone's head, twisting it. Instead of the crack of vertebrae the man had been expecting, the kage bunshin disappeared in a rush of air. In his moment of confusion, Itachi had used the shunshin to move silently onto the water, cloaked in genjutsu, knife in hand.

The man was fast, fast like he had eyes in the back of his head, faster than Itachi had given him credit for. His leather bracer knocked the kunai aside before it could slip between his ribs. That Itachi's first blow was parried was no great matter. He caught the man's sleeve in his fingers and jerked him forward so their gazes met—to lock eyes with an Uchiha jōnin was all but begging for a quick death.

"_Shit_," the man hissed, who had just realized exactly that.

Itachi had him snared in the illusion before he could so much as blink. A drop of ink fell into the bowl that was the sky. The bright azure above their head stained oily black in an instant, as did the water, leaving everything in darkness. His captive looked down. There were spots of light writhing at his feet… in pairs. The masses of needle-toothed snakes surged upward, entwining themselves around his wrists, ankles, and neck. Hundred of tiny fangs sank into his flesh to hold him fast.

The waterfall roared back to life as his jutsu dispelled. Sasuke made the leap to catch the unconscious Sakura as she fell, carrying her to safety on the opposite bank.

"Who sent you?" Itachi asked.

"Wouldn't… you like to know," he gasped out.

"Not answering my question will be very painful," Itachi cautioned.

He let out a strangle chuckle. "That supposed to scare me? I've been tortured before."

"Not like this," Itachi said. His voice was utterly flat, chill and featureless as a snowfield. "I can make every second you stand before me feel like a day. Is that really worth whatever pittance you were paid?"

The man blinked a few times, unimpressed. Then he smiled with one corner of his mouth, and without warning spat a stream of clear liquid into Itachi's face. Where the venom had contacted his skin he felt only a dull tingling, but the pain in his eyes was immediate and overwhelming. A silent curse on his tongue, Itachi felt the other shinobi tear free of the illusion. Although the Tsukuyomi was essentially unbreakable, seeing through a genjutsu cast with his normal sharingan was simply extraordinarily difficult… and his opponent had managed to stall him long enough to do it. Whoever his enemy was, he hadn't earned the streaks of gray at his temples by being stupid—and he knew how to fight a sharingan.

Itachi brought his hands together to initiate a katon jutsu that flared out in a deadly ring, briefly clearing enough space for him to suck in a hasty breath and dropped beneath the surface of the water. Submerging brought a small measure of relief from the corrosive chemical in his eyes, but the damage had already been done. Even after he surfaced, they were still tearing so badly he could barely see.

"Like it?" he heard the Kiri shinobi called from somewhere behind him. "I made that one up especially for dealing with you people. No Uchiha is making a fool of me again!"

He heard Kosai cry out in alarm, and a jingling as he was disarmed and his staff tossed aside. Itachi had no way to help them from afar; the figures were too blurry and too close together for him to target accurately with his shuriken. He was more likely to hit the client or his genin than the enemy.

But then there was a snarl of defiance, and through the prism of the uncontrollable tears he could see a huge mass of chakra gather in Naruto's chest. The gray blur leapt clear of the blast with a yelp of surprise. It gave Itachi all the opportunity he needed. While the Kiri shinobi was still in the air, he used a couple of handsigns to pull dozens of blades from the falls. This particular suiton was far less elegant than he would have preferred, but in his current condition Itachi couldn't afford to be picky.

At least one of the water blades had struck their target; when he landed the man swore loudly, and staggered, but kept his feet. Itachi closed the distance with a flicker of black and green. Injured though his sharingan had been, he could still vaguely make out the outline of his opponent's body and the chakra pulsing within. He could read it like a map, the surge and retreat of intention that told him where every blow would land. None of more than brushed the heavy padding of his vest.

His foe was slowing with the pain of the deep wound in his leg, and a handful of other cuts that were staining his clothes with blood. He splashed out of the water, back against a tree. Itachi spun his kunai around in his fist, intending to bury it in the man's throat.

Just after it left his fingers, a fierce gust of wind tore the blade from its intended trajectory. It landed with a weak plunk against the tree and spun away into the weeds. Before the injured man could rise fully, a column of water rose from the stream and struck him hard in the chest. His legs gave out and he toppled over into the undergrowth.

Itachi followed the wind's path to see someone crouched on the ledge of the cliff, framed by the morning sun. "You have my thanks," the boy said. "I have been tracking him for several days. Cornering a sensor is difficult. My colleagues in the T & I division will, however, need him alive."

"Who are you?" Itachi asked, forcing his breathing even. There was a strange heaviness in chest, as if his heart had turned to lead, but showing such weakness in front of a foreign shinobi was never wise.

"I am a hunter of Kirigakure," he answered. "That man is a traitor to the Mizukage and has important information on the various dissident groups." He jumped off the ledge and landed with crunch in the gravel. He was extremely short—the top of his dark head only reached Itachi's chin. "I have a travel pass from your Hokage, if you'd like to inspect it."

The civil war that had broken out after Madara's death had split the hidden village like the seed of a touch-me-not flower, scattering scores of rogue ninja across the continent. If he was lying, the signs were hidden from Itachi's sharingan by his porcelain mask and voluminous coat. The pass looked perfectly valid, if somewhat old, although his vision was still too blurred to detect any subtler signs of forgery. He had no pressing reason to doubt the boy's sincerity, and the ache beneath his breastbone was becoming more intense by the second. He returned the rectangle of heavy paper after a cursory inspection.

"Please allow me to restrain him," he said, glancing briefly at the unconscious man. "I recognize the capture was essentially yours, but for security reasons I must confiscate his equipment."

"I understand. I will not interfere." Itachi gestured with his chin to indicate the negotiations had been completed. The boy locked seal-inscribed shackles around his quarry's wrists, then hefted his body across his narrow shoulders. They both disappeared in a breath of mist.

"Is she all right?" Itachi called, jogging over to where the two boys and the monk were hovering over Sakura. She'd come round in the time it had taken to negotiate with the Kiri hunter, and was on her hands and knees coughing and gagging as Kosai forced the water from her lungs with delicate tendrils of chakra.

"Fine," he answered, not looking up. "She wasn't out for too long." He slid his hands lower on her back. "I know this hurts, just a little more," he said to her, more gently than he'd spoken anything to the shinobi so far. "If I don't get all the water out now, you'd pay for it later."

After another second or two, he withdrew, and she sat up straight, grimacing and rubbing her throat. "Sasuke-kun. You... saved me, didn't you. Thank you."

"You could thank _me_, too," Kosai said, rolling his eyes. "He saved you from breaking your neck when you fell. _I_ saved you from drowning."

A blush bloomed against her clammy skin. "Sorry. Thanks... and sorry."

Armed with the reassurance that Sakura was going to survive, Naruto turned to Sasuke. "You _bastard_!" he shrieked. "You stole Sakura-chan's first kiss!"

Sasuke looked briefly like he'd swallowed a bug, and then crossed his arms over his chest. "That wasn't a kiss. I was administering rescue breathing!"

"_BASTARD!"_

"You wanted the chance to have her almost throw up in your mouth instead of mine?" Sasuke asked sarcastically. "Please, be my guest. Next time she halfway drowns she's all yours."

"Shut up, Naruto,' Sakura said hoarsely, and made a disgusted face. "That was totally the opposite of romantic and I feel like death. So as a first kiss it doesn't count." She coughed a few more times, for good measure, and looked up at her teacher. "I should've been more alert, I won't—Sensei, are you okay?"

Itachi was paying no attention to the bickering. He pressed his hand to his chest; the pain beneath his breastbone had crawled outward, across his chest and up his neck. He started to cough, wet and wrenching. "I... can't breathe," he gasped.

Kosai was on his feet immediately. Sasuke shoved Naruto aside and went to his elder brother. "Are you hurt? What's—"

"Catch him, he's about to—" Kosai barked.

"Nii-san? _Nii-san!"_

-ooo-

Several kilometers away, the Kiri ANBU laid his unconscious prisoner down with unnecessary gentleness. He flicked open the lock on the cuffs and pulled a first aid kit from the folds of his kimono. He dumped the contents of the box on the grass and tore open a packet of heavy gauze to press against the wound in his leg. After a few minutes, satisfied the bleeding had slowed to an acceptable trickle, he secured it in place with a length of bandaging.

His work finished, he sat back on his heels, staring intently at the inert body in front of him. A few more seconds passed, and he began to fidget, worrying at his knuckles with his fingers. His breath grew uneven. He reached out to place a hand over the man's heart. "Ao-san, please, tell me I wasn't too late," he whispered shakily, to reassure himself.

As if roused by the boy's voice, the man stirred and opened his visible eye. "Haku? I... oh. Damn it." He blinked in a daze and brought his hand to the sore spot below his sternum, wincing. He frowned at the boy, coughed a few times, and then said, "Have I ever mentioned how much _I hate Uchiha_?!"

Haku blew out a relieved sigh and helped him sit up. "Once or twice. Take off your coat so I can clean up the one on your shoulder."

He shrugged it off, and Haku rolled up his billowing sleeves to began dabbing at the bloodstains with a clean rag. "'Oh, I don't need the kid's help, they'd never send anyone decent on a charity mission'," he quoted crossly. He pulled out another roll of bandages and began wrapping it around the cut in Ao's arm, cinching the cloth just a little too tight. "'I'll be _just fine _by myself.'"

"You be quiet," Ao grumbled. "I made a mistake. It happens occasionally. And would you take my mask off? I don't want to look at that damn thing again, no matter how useful it's been."

Haku knotted the end of the bandage and hesitantly complied, pulling it off and wiping at his damp nose and eyes with a sleeve.

Turning, Ao looked askance at the redness around his eyes. "Would you man up? It's bad enough you look like a girl. Do you have to start bawling like one too?"

"Sorry," he said, smiling a little, as if the insult was too well-worn to have any bite left. "You really scared me. That was too close." A mischievous gleam appeared in his brown eyes. "Maybe you're getting a little too old for this sort of thing."

"Fine. Now we're even. Stop being a brat and help me up. And Haku...?"

"Yes?"

"Out of all the herbalists they could've sent after this stuff, it had to be a monk. And out of all the teams that could've taken the mission, it had to be Uchiha Itachi's."

"You're sure that was him?" Haku asked, getting to his feet and offering the other man a hand to rise.

It took a few curses, but after a few steps Ao found a method of limping that didn't hurt too badly. "Yeah, I'm sure. He was a lot smaller the last time we met, but believe me, he and his teacher made one hell of an impression."

"The client lied, didn't he," Haku said. "She's not going to like this."

"No," Ao agreed. "She's not going to like this at _all_."

-ooo-

The sun had long since set when the pair of former Kiri shinobi struggled into the ragged mountain town that was their client's base of operations. In its glory days it had been a gold mine, but it had the dull, pinched look of a place that had seen the best veins run out long ago. The soil around the village was rocky and poor, and what little food the miner's wives could grow wasn't nearly enough to fill their bellies.

They ducked into the doorway of the largest house, a dilapidated mansion in the center of town that used to belong to the mine's owner. The two guards at the door sneered but let them pass without challenge.

A woman in a long black coat, woven with a decoration of red clouds, was waiting in the shadows of the hall. "There were complications," Ao said to her in a hushed voice. "The captain of the Konoha team is Uchiha Itachi. I landed one good hit on him, but I doubt it was fatal. Or that I could do it again, without the element of surprise."

"Itachi?" she repeated. "If he's here, I should count myself very lucky you two are still alive."

"And the target is a monk from one of the monastery hospitals," Ao added.

The woman's green eyes went hard. "Gentokan didn't mention that when he requested the job." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Haku can give me the full report after I talk to that liar. Ao... get some rest. You look awful."

After her subordinates had disappeared upstairs, the woman made her way past the shabby screens to the center of the mansion. Through the rents, she could hear the laughter of men deep in their cups, the whimpering of the village girls with the bad luck to be born pretty. Jobs like this were distasteful to the extreme, but money was money, and her client was paying both well and in hard cash.

A massive man in leather armor was guarding the room at which she stopped.

"I need to talk to your boss," she said.

The man sniffed, making a show of inspecting his incredibly thorough collection of throwing knives. "He's busy."

Behind the paper, she could hear a woman sobbing, and the rhythmic shifting of cloth.

"Want some fun while you wait?" he leered, advancing on her. He was so tall her could almost brace his hands against the ceiling beams. "Think about it... how many more offers are you going to get at your age?"

She looked up at him, smiling sweetly, and didn't give a hair of ground. "Joto-san, we've been over this... if you bring that syphilitic stub anywhere near me, I'll rip it off and make you eat it."

He took a step backward, and then another, as the almost physical pressure of the woman's killing intent forced him to his knees.

"Thank you, that's much better," she chirped. There was the clack of a screen opening and closing, the sound of a brief struggle, and an abrupt end to the sobbing. "I believe he's finished with his meeting, so don't bother getting up," she said, patting him on the top of his bald head. "I can just let myself in."

She stepped over the threshold and shut the door, leaving the half-comatose guard behind her. Gentokan was lounging against the table, his robe loose but still mercifully closed. What she could see of his bony chest was more than enough. Her nose was assaulted by the stench of tobacco smoke, cheap sake, and sex, and beneath it all a faint, charred sweetness—he'd been sampling the merchandise. It was a foolish thing to do. Once cloud poppy had you by the throat, it never, ever let you go. He would have better luck wrestling a rabid dog.

"Terumï," he said, taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth. "Sit down. I'm in the mood for good news."

"The Konoha team defeated Ao," she said, refusing his order to kneel. She smiled inwardly as he choked on the news.

"They didn't get the herbalist?" he yelled, although it came out more like the wheedling of a child. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted that old geezer and your little boytoy to get the job done. Do you understand how much I need this shipment to come through on time? Gatō's killed his suppliers for less! It's my fucking neck on the line here." He flicked his cigarette nervously over the bowl of ashes on the table. "When I hired you people I was promised results."

"I hardly think you're in a position to make demands," she said silkily. "Considering you failed to mention it was the _Candidate Hokage_ who was leading the team. Knowing we would be facing a shinobi of his caliber would have made a significant impact when I negotiated the mission fee with you."

"I didn't know! Gatō didn't tell me shit!" he said, too quickly. "Who could've guessed they'd send an Uchiha on a throwaway charity mission? My first idea is all shot to hell now. Let them harvest as much as they can and process it down for us. Grab the old man yourself when they're on their way back east."

"He must not have mentioned it was a monk, either, did he?"

"I told you... didn't tell me _shit._"

"You... are lying," she said, and stalked behind the cushions to run a long-fingered hand up the ridge of his shoulder. "Who sold him out, hmm? One of his brothers? His abbot? It must have been a very sweet price." She bent over his ear and breathed in and out again. A few of the man's greasy hairs began to sizzle, and he tried to jerk away as if he'd been burned. Her hand tightened, pinning him to the ground with a strength belied by the slenderness of her arms. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't insult my companions, Gentokan-san_," _she requested, smiling that same sweet smile. "Don't worry, you'll get what you were promised, one way or the other. Akatsuki always delivers."

-ooo-

Itachi awoke on a musty futon with his chest aching and the sore, stretched feeling in his chakra pathways that usually resulted from a prolonged healing session. The hunter's cabin in which he found himself had only one room, separated by a ragged folding screen. Light and cold wind seeped through the slats in the planks—the building had been better days, and it had seen them a long, long time ago. The faint warmth radiating from the hearth sunk into the floor was snatched away almost as soon as it brushed his skin.

Sakura's anxious face appeared in front of him before he could do much more than struggle up to a sitting position. "How're you feeling? Sasuke-kun's been worried sick."

He drew in a deep breath to answer her, but, before he could get a word out, he was seized by a paroxysm of coughing. The violent fit split something in his chest. He gagged on a metallic tang in the back of his throat and spat out a mouthful of blood into his palm.

She grabbed a folded cloth from the bedside and pressed it to his mouth. "Hold on, I'll be back with Kosai-san in a minute!" she called, and dashed out to the meadow he could see through the open door.

True to her word, Sakura quickly returned with the monk in tow and his brothers bounding in a few seconds after.

"Damn it, I had a feeling that wouldn't hold," the older man muttered, sinking down on the bed next to Itachi. He hovered one hand over Itachi's bare chest, bracing him upright with the other, and the pain began to fade as the room was illuminated with a pleasant greenish glow. "Sakura-chan, get him a cup of that tea I made, will you?" he asked. He kept at it for about a minute, as Sakura busied herself at the hearth, then sat back and relieved Itachi of the bloody rag.

"How long was I—" Itachi began, his voice hoarse.

"Fluids first. Questions after," he ordered, handing Itachi the chipped cup. "Cloud poppy is, of all things, an excellent cough suppressant, and in doses this low it's not terribly addictive. It should help keep you from stressing the tissue too much."

There wasn't much point to arguing with a medic, so Itachi drank it down despite the astringent taste. Kosai asked Sakura to fetch another cup of the lukewarm tea and had him drain that one, too.

"Are you feeling any better?" Sasuke asked hesitantly.

"Much, thank you," he said, inclining his head to Kosai. His voice sounded rusty and weak, and despite the monk's ministrations the rest of him wasn't in much better shape. Right now he felt barely fit enough to take on a couple of low-rent thugs, never mind another jōnin... at least not without relying on the Mangekyō, and that was something he'd done far too much of already. On his last physical he'd been forced to activate his sharingan when the nurse wasn't watching in order to pass the vision test.

"And it's been almost a day since you fought that rogue ninja," Sasuke offered. "You got so dizzy afterward you passed out. We had to rig a stretcher out of your sleeping bag and carry you up here."

"I admit I haven't treated any shinobi in a long time, but I've never seen an injury like that in my life," Kosai added. "I was sure every punch he threw missed, but your _heart_ was bruised, so badly I'm sure it felt like you were having a heart attack—and the lung tissue around it was too. Your ribs weren't even cracked, but the soft tissue was torn up like you'd been kicked by a horse."

"What you are describing is the result of a jyūken strike," Itachi said. From the hand of an experienced practitioner, even a near-miss to the chakra pathways entangled with the heart was usually fatal. An amateurish, sloppy, _self-taught_ jyūken strike was far more survivable.

"Jyūken?" Sasuke put in. "That doesn't make any... I saw his eyes. They were plain old blue."

"No," Itachi corrected. "You saw _one_ of his eyes. The other is a transplanted byakugan." Now he knew why the man's voice seemed so familiar—they had met before, although it had been almost a decade ago and Itachi had still been a child. His sensei Shisui had been the one to fight him, deeming such an enemy far too dangerous for a nine-year-old to engage. He didn't know the man's name at the time, but he _did _remember what he had done. It was so brutal it was impossible to forget. Konoha's dōjutsu were a precious commodity, and the carriers, especially genin, were sometimes captured for the sole purpose stealing one. A byakugan was especially difficult to get hold of, thanks to the seals burned into the Branch House members that made up the vast majority of the clan. Upon their death their eyes burned to ashes in their sockets. In order to take one successfully, a member of the main house had to be abducted (as happened to Hyūga Hinata), or the eyes removed while the victim was still alive.

"His name is Ao. A jōnin, formerly of the ANBU hunter squads. After Madara died and the Yondaime Mizukage disappeared, Kirigakure was plunged into civil war as various factions struggled to fill the power vacuum. Eventually, the one led by Hoshigaki Kisame was victorious and he was named the Godaime. I would guess Ao chose to back someone else, and fled before he could be executed."

"Former ANBU? After _me? _I don't understand," Kosai murmured. "I had some problems last year with a few miners' boys trying to steal what I'd harvested, but after I gave one a good crack on the head the whole lot lost their nerve. They weren't really bad kids, and they certainly wouldn't have the resources to hire shinobi. The entire reason they'd gone after me in the first place was because their families could barely afford to put food on the table. I was afraid some of them might come better armed this year, but that's all."

"Poverty breeds crime like garbage breeds rats," Itachi said. "There are people in this world who would have a use for strong, desperate young men."

"Maybe, but the only people who knew exactly when I'd be setting out were your team, the Hokage, and..." He went stock still. "My abbot." His face paled, and didn't speak for long moments, looking away. "The monastery was in trouble. Financial trouble. The Daimyo slashed funding for the hospital last year, and tithes haven't made up the difference. A month ago the abbot met with a representative of the Gatō Corporation, who must have promised him a huge donation because suddenly all of our money problems disappeared."

"But that's... good, right?" Naruto asked.

"The Gatō Corporation is the public face of an organized crime syndicate based in Wave Country," Itachi explained. "The Hokage has considered doing something about it for quite some time, but until Gatō's dealings spill over into Fire Country he has no authority to intervene in another nation's affairs without an invitation. No charity he gave would ever be truly free."

"My abbot must have made a deal with him to divert the cloud poppy harvest in return for the money," Kosai said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Of all the bad ideas that man has ever..."

"How much would our haul fetch on the black market?" Itachi asked.

Kosai looked miserable. "Enough. And once he knows the location of the plants, his men can return for more whenever they like. It's tricky to purify the chemical from seed; he must need me alive to supervise the production." He scrubbed his face with his hand. "I am so sorry, Itachi-sensei. Even though you took care of the first man, I doubt whoever is after these seeds is going to give up that easily. If I'd known we were tangling with a crime lord like Gatō I would never have requested a genin team for this mission... especially not one so young and green."

"This was not your fault," Itachi told him. "Misclassifications happen—that is why genin are sent out with an experienced jōnin. The man he hired had no idea he would be facing me, and I was selected as Candidate Hokage for a reason. It does not matter what sort of scum he intends to throw at us. I am bringing all of us down from this mountain alive."

"You're not going to be fit enough for that for days," Kosai said. "As long as we've travelled all the way out here we might as well harvest as much as we can—less for him next year, if we can get most of the seed pods. I can sell it to one of the public hospitals."

"Konoha would give you a good price, and protection from Gatō, if you need it," Itachi offered.

Kosai sighed and rose to make for the door. "I'm probably going to have to take you up on that. I... I need some time to think about this."

-ooo-

"You shouldn't go off by yourself for so long," Sakura said, coming up behind Kosai. He had his back to her, sitting on the smallest of a scattering of boulders. The sun sinking behind the mountains had painted the sky like an unfurled fan. The cabin was really too small for five people. The air was too close.

He jerked at the sound of her voice, and hastily jammed the flask he'd been draining back into the fold of his robes.

Sakura made a face. "Seriously, why did you even bother? It's not like I would care."

"It's habit?" he said, sheepish. "To be honest, I was never much for the vows in the first place."

"Then why'd you take them?" Sakura asked, flopping down on the patch of rough grass beside him. "It seems like a hard life, living out in the middle of nowhere with all those rules against fun."

"I admit it," he said, with a tipsy wave of his hand. "I do care for swearing and drinking a bit more than my brothers approve of, but it was the temple or Konoha."

Sakura blinked and looked up at him. "You were going to train as a shinobi? I thought you hated shinobi."

"I do," he said. "Present company excepted, though, I think." He smiled wryly. "I was too quick to judge you and your teacher, and I apologize. After what I saw in the Third War, it was... difficult not to."

Unbidden, the facts spooled themselves out in her head—the names of the great captains, the battlefields, the casualty counts. The main thrust of the conflict was between Konoha and Iwa, two bulls trampling back and forth over Storm Country and Grass Country in their struggle for supremacy. "Your monastery was caught right in the middle of the fighting, wasn't it," Sakura said.

"Mmm," he grunted. "For years, the refugees poured past us, from both sides. It didn't matter what symbol the shinobi wore on their heads; the stories were always the same. Civilians caught in the crossfire, mutilated by abandoned exploding tags. Storehouses plundered, even the seed rice. Rape. Beatings. And the children... the orphans were terrible enough to see, but I think it was the soldiers that suffered the most. No country that calls itself civilized should be ordering nine-year-olds into a battlefield! I could put their bodies back together, but their souls...?" He stopped to pull off his glasses, pressing his fingers against his eyes. "They signed the peace treaty more than a decade ago, but I still..."

War was as abstract as the maps in her history textbooks, the careful line drawings decorated with blobs of red and green like spilled ink. Haruno had died in that conflict, but the graves on which her parents placed wildflowers and sweet tangerines in offering had been erected before she'd even been born. Sakura bit her lip, not knowing what to say about memories so painful they could bring a grown man to the edge of tears.

"Anyway, like I said, it was the temple or Konoha," he said, replacing his glasses. "Those were the only two places in the country that would teach me medical ninjutsu. I had talent for it. A great deal. It didn't plan to squander it. But I only wanted to learn how to put people back together, not take them apart, so to the temple it was. I figured it would be less dangerous to my health to be a good doctor and a lousy monk than a good doctor and a lousy shinobi."

"Well... I'm glad you did," Sakura said. "Without your help, Sensei would have been..."

"Maybe," Kosai said. "Maybe not. I must say, he's a great deal tougher than he looks. I probably don't want to know, but how old was he when they sent him out into the field, to captain his own team before twenty?"

"Seven or eight, I think."

"Merciful..." Kosai whispered. "That poor child."

Sakura didn't know what to say to that, either. It was simply how shinobi did things. If you had the skills, you got the promotion, no matter how tall you were. To change the subject, she said, "After this mission, you're going back to your temple, and we're going back to Konoha, and I'm probably never going to see you again." She started scuffing a hole in the rocky soil with her heel. "So what happens the next time? What happens when Sasuke-kun or Naruto need someone to put _them_ back together?"

"Are you asking me if you want to be that someone?" Kosai asked, turning to her.

"I think I might," Sakura answered. The aftermath of the encounter at the falls had crept up on her, now that worries over her wounded teacher had been allayed. She hadn't been able to do a thing. The man she was ostensibly protecting had been of more help to her team. "Itachi-sensei has been trying his best to teach me taijutsu, but I'm really no good at fighting like that, compared to Sasuke or Naruto. If I stay a shinobi, I'm probably always going to need someone to swoop in and rescue me. I wouldn't feel so useless, if... if I knew that _after_ those battles, I was the only one who could rescue my rescuers."

"Not a bad sentiment, but being a healer is hard, ugly work," Kosai cautioned.

"But you save lives," Sakura said. "Doesn't that make it worth it?"

"Once in a great while, yes, I do. What I did for Itachi-sensei was the exception, not the rule. I cannot honestly say I spend my days 'saving lives'. I'm a country doctor—most of my time is spent on broken bones, birth complications, fevers, stomach trouble, and the like.

"I would imagine the life of a medical ninja is far more gruesome," he continued. "It's not only the blood and guts, and more importantly the smell, that you'll have to get used to. You'll be seeing people on the worst days of their lives. In your case, you won't have the comfort of treating strangers—your patients will most likely be your teammates and friends. You'll have to be prepared to cause them pain, sometimes _incredible _pain, in order to heal them. You might even have to feel them die under your hands, knowing that you were the very last line of defense against the shinigami's blade. Are you prepared for that, Sakura?"

Sakura folded her knees under her chin. "I—I don't know," she whispered. "Were you?"

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Not in the least. No one ever really is."

-ooo-

Cloud poppy was a nondescript, hardy little plant that loved the cracks and crevices of the mountainside, a trait which made its seed pods extremely annoying to harvest. Most of it would only accessible to the most intrepid rock climber… or a shinobi who could simply walk up the rock face itself.

Naruto shrugged the tea-picker's basket from his shoulders and pressed his hands against his eye sockets. He'd been at this for hours, and more than once lost his concentration and nearly broken his neck. "My brain feels like a pot of overcooked ramen. This is the most annoying mission we've ever taken. Even worse than the weed pulling ones."

Sasuke, who had been having almost as much difficulty, added sourly, "How do you... do that?" he asked Sakura. "Make it look so easy?"

"I'm not sure how to describe it, really," Sakura answered shyly. Since it seemed they had unanimously decided it was time for a break, she fished some energy bars from her pouches and handed one each to her teammates. "Even when we were little, it was always something I could just… _do_. For most people, it seems like executing a jutsu is like pouring water into a glass with a blindfold on. To get it to work, you have to keep pouring until you hear it spilling over." She paused to smile. "Naruto keeps pouring 'til the room floods. But me... I was never blindfolded. I can see it. The lip of the glass. When we were in school, it wasn't really that useful, but..."

"But it _is_ useful. You can do things Naruto and I can't," he said, with a touch of bitterness.

"Well, you can do things _I_ can't," she said quickly. "That's the reason shinobi are put on teams in the first place, isn't it? So a unit is flexible enough to take whatever a mission throws at them? Without your help, I might've died when Ao took me hostage at the river. But I don't _want_ to be the one always relying on you. It's like Sensei said on our very first day. We should be able to rely on each other. I want it to balance—it just feels right that way."

"Hn," he grunted. Even he had to admit her point was a good one. If every_one_ could do every_thing_, the entire system of genin cells, that formed the basis of shinobi life, would have no purpose. "Maybe... there is something else you can help me with," he said. He drew a fistful of wire out of his belt pouch. "Itachi gave this to me, as a gift, for awakening my sharingan."

"Is this...?" she asked, taking the proffered loop from him and turning it over in her hands. It looked like the standard-issue steel wire, but handling it make her fingers tingle. "Chakra wire?"

"Ah. I tried for weeks, to get the hang of manipulating it, but my control wasn't good enough to pass my chakra more than half a meter down the length. If you pour too much in, it seems to stop up like a pipe." He looked down at his shoes, worrying at a loose thread in the pocket of his shorts. "Want to give it a try?"

"Me? Shouldn't you ask Sensei how to... oh," she said, trailing off when she noticed the embarrassment pinching his brows together.

Sakura stood, untwisting the loop holding the coil together, and tossed it free. Biting her lip, she tried concentrating her chakra in her fingertips, and then out through the wire. Sasuke was watching her beneath his lashes, but feigned a great deal of interest in the scenery whenever she glanced in his direction. She blew out a deep breath. Having an audience was unnerving, especially _this_ audience, but one thing she'd never had problems with was control.

Sasuke pushed the cap closed on his water bottle and trudged back in Naruto's direction. "I'll take this load back to base camp," he said, as he lashed the straps of the large basket over his shoulders. "Let me know when you get somewhere with it. You've picked more than your share of these seeds; Naruto and I can get the rest from around here."

"'Kay," she answered. It took a few false starts to get a feel for how much chakra the wire would accommodate, but once she figure it out, the power flowed down to the tip like it was an extension of her fingers. Getting the wire to move with more grace than a drowning earthworm took another good hour of trial and error. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the wire in space, the same way she could feel the position of her limbs. Her movements were a far cry from graceful, but even as stilted and awkward as they were, Sakura could feel the lethal potential of the unassuming weapon. It was impossible to snap; with enough speed and force, she could theoretically use it to cleave straight through a tree trunk, and it made her slightly queasy to imagine the things she could do by wrapping it around someone's _neck_.

After another hour her head started to ache, her body's warning that she would be reaching the limit of her chakra capacity sooner rather than later. She tucked the wire back in a compact curl and stowed it in her pouch, massaging her temples as she shuffled slowly to where the boys were sorting seeds. "I'm done for the day—my head hurts, and that usually means I'm out of chakra. I think once you really get used to cliff walking, this will make a lot more sense. Holding the chakra levels steady is really the key."

"So you could... show me?" Sasuke asked.

She replaced the strand around her fingers, and a faint bluish light streamed down its length. Selfconsciously, she slid her feet into a fighting stance, and snapped the wire around the woody stem of a weed. The spray of brown flowers at the end popped off, leaving a splintered end. "There's probably a whole taijutsu style that goes along with using this, I don't really…."

"No, that's really cool!" Naruto said. "You should let her keep it, Sasuke, she's ten times better with it than you were."

Sasuke glared at him. "Fine. You can borrow it for a while. But it was a present from Itachi, remember, so you'd _better_ not lose it."

-ooo-

Sakura took the next load back to the cabin. With so much work to occupy her hands, but not her mind, a single question kept bobbing up in her thoughts. Kosai was outside scrubbing out laundry, and in the close quarters of the cabin Sakura probably wasn't going to get many other moments of privacy with her teacher. "Itachi-sensei... can I ask you something?"

"If you like," he answered, cracking open seed pods with his slender fingers and tossing the usable parts of the plant in another basket. He was still recovering from the injury to his heart, and exertion more intense than a stroll around the cabin left him slightly dizzy, so he'd taken up the least taxing harvest task.

"Why me?" she asked, folding down cross-legged at the rickety table. She picked up a plant from Itachi's to-do basket and began working her way through the motions.

"Hmm?"

"I heard some of the jōnin talking," she explained. "It was a while ago. Right after you passed us. They said you cheated. You talked the Hokage into giving you a student that had already been put on someone else's team." She picked up another pod, crushed it under the heel of her hand. "I was sure they were talking about Sasuke-kun. But I kept listening. They weren't. They were talking about me." She pinched her lips together, looking uncomfortable. "I'm not like the rest of you. You... well, you're _Uchiha Itachi_. You took out the most dangerous enemy Konoha's ever had when you weren't much older than me! Sasuke's a prodigy just like you. He could've passed the graduation exam three years ago if he'd been allowed to take it. Even Naruto is... he's rude and hyper, but he can pump so much power into his jutsu it's crazy. I've never heard of anyone having as much chakra as he does.

"And I'm... I'm not a genius shinobi. Just normal, boring, average Sakura."

Itachi had stopped working through his pile and laced his fingers together in front of him. "That is not true," he said. It wasn't a gentle reassurance. He spoke the words as if they were indisputable fact. "Although between the two of them they have you outmatched in almost every area, there is one that they do not."

"Well, yeah, I guess, but that's just wall-walking. It's not like I figured out how to blow up the mountain."

Itachi gave her one of his enigmatic half-smiles. "Raw power is not the only measure of a shinobi's talent."

"Huh?" she grunted.

"You mastered the wall climbing exercise much faster than Sasuke. And even a little faster than me."

"I—what did you say?" Sakura whispered.

Itachi coughed a few times and cleared his throat. "Excuse me. I said you mastered wall climbing faster than I did." A handful of seeds went bouncing away over the lip of the table. When Sakura didn't stop gaping, he continued. "That exercise is not a measure of power, but of control. It requires precise application of chakra to a precise point. Using it to scale a vertical surface or to walk on water is only the beginning, and many shinobi never bother refining it beyond that point, even jōnin. Sakura," he said, looking intently at her, "you have perfect chakra control without ever having drilled in it. To my knowledge, you have never even gotten _pointers._ I have never seen anything like it.

"In addition, you are willing to study as hard, if not harder, than you train, and you possess a superb visual memory. Those qualities are crucial to the mastery of two disciplines: genjutsu and medical ninjutsu. I wanted you as my student because you _are_ a genius."


	6. Chapter 6

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 6 Oo.<strong>

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><p>It took almost five days to finish cleaning and packing their harvest into storage scrolls, and by that time everyone was both figuratively and literally itching to indulge in the luxury of a hot shower. After tidying up base camp, they began the easy downhill hike on the trail that lead to the real road snaking through the mountain passes. A forest fire had come roaring through a season or so ago, and only the sturdiest of the trees were still standing, their trunks mottled and blackened. The undergrowth was thick, nourished on the brief sunlight and the ashes contributed by the fallen trees.<p>

As they passed deeper into the timberline, a thick mist began to curl around the pines, as if a cloud had descended upon the mountain.

Sakura batted at it, shivering in the damp. "What's with this? It's like trying to walk through milk," she complained.

"Yeah, no kid—"

"Ow! Naruto, would you watch where you're going?" Sasuke snapped, as he'd just barked his shin on an exposed tree root thanks to his brother stepping on the back of his shoe.

They broke through the forest into a clearing surrounding a small lake, the water clear as crystal despite its depth.

"Stop, now," Itachi ordered, from behind them, and activated his sharingan. The moisture in the air took on a bluish tinge, shimmering in what little light was left on the rocky shore. In moments, the mirrored surface of the lake had become completely obscured by the mist. The temperature began to drop… too quickly.

"This is a suiton jutsu," Sasuke said, who'd brought forth his own sharingan. "No way that guy from Kiri is still after us."

Itachi set his teeth. "I began feeling so ill after our battle I never confirmed the arrest was legitimate in the first place. It's irrelevant now; I doubt he would come after me alone a second time. Form a defensive perimeter around Kosai-san," he ordered. "Cover each others' blind spots, and don't forget you may be attacked from above or below. Do not break formation until I give the order, no matter what you see."

There was a chorus of 'yes, sir', as well as an acknowledgement from the monk, who hefted his walking staff. Despite his embrace of pacifistic tenets, he did know how to defend himself. Itachi extended his chakra senses to the very edge of their range, and caught the metaphorical scent of three shinobi up ahead, one of them presumably the source of the mist. One of them had some method to detect his position, either by sound, by his chakra, or something even more exotic. If his opponent was confident enough in their abilities to face Uchiha Itachi, it was most likely the last.

Itachi linked his hand in the signs for a katon jutsu and blew it as widely as he could, creating a sheet of fire. The heat briefly evaporated a passage through the mist. On the opposite shore stood a figure in a black coat, what was unmistakably Ao, and the small Kiri hunter they had encountered on the way up the mountain. The mist slammed shut again as though it was a curtain.

"There's three of them?" Sakura asked, shaky.

"There's four us. We can take them," Sasuke reassured her. "Stay focused."

A duplicate of the figure in black coalesced from the water in front of Itachi—a mizu bunshin, and clearly here to parley. It was a woman, the hair at her temples caught up in braid and the rest spilling down her back. There was a slash through the Kiri symbol on the plate she wore belted around her waist. "Uchiha Itachi-kun," she purred. "Your picture in the old Kiri bingo books hardly does you justice."

Itachi ignored the misplaced flattery. "Who are you and what do you want with my client?"

"My name is Terumï Mei, Ao and Haku you have already met. We are... private contractors in the employ of someone who would prefer to remain anonymous. Give us the monk and you are free to go. I have no desire to harm you or your genin," she said. Her expression lost its playfulness for a moment, replaced with something like loss, or longing. "You freed my homeland from something truly evil; for that, you have my thanks."

She was, without a doubt, both the politest and the most puzzling rogue ninja Itachi had ever encountered. "I believe you already know I will not relinquish the life of someone I have sworn to protect," he told her.

"I was afraid you'd say that," she said, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. The chilly smile had returned to her lips. "It would be such a shame to kill a man as beautiful as you, but we do what we must, do we not?"

As soon as it had finished speaking, the mizu bunshin exploded into a shower of water needles. Itachi darted out of the impact radius, the projectiles spitting into the gravel. The negotiations had ended. He kept his blade raised, waiting for her to come to him–the genjutsu that did not require eye contact had a limited range. Her abilities remained a mystery to him; she obviously had not been in the former Mizukage's favor and he had never seen her on his visits to Kirigakure before the Uchiha Rebellion. He remained nothing but calm, but it was undeniable she currently held the advantage.

In his place in the triangle, Naruto started to squirm. "What's he waiting for? I want to get the little one!"

"We're not playing ninja with cardboard shuriken anymore," Sasuke said sharply. "You charge into a fight between jōnin and you'll get yourself killed."

"I didn't say I was _going_ to. Geez. I just don't want to loaf around like a slug while Sensei—"

Mei chose that moment to strike. Naruto's words were drowned under the roaring of water as a wave in the shape of a gaping maw of teeth crashed onto the shore. Itachi sucked in a deep breath and rode with it, diving into the weakest point to emerge in the trough. The others were not so lucky. The currents were too strong for them to fight; Naruto was pulled quickly in one direction and Sasuke, Sakura, and Kosai in the other.

Itachi found his footing on the undulating surface of the lake. Mei was not the only one who could make use of the water. At Itachi's command, a dozen ropes came tearing out of the pool, grasping at the presence he could feel near the shore. She evaded all of them, nimble as a dancer, her half-open coat billowing in the wind, but now she was in range of the explosive kunai he had tossed into the undergrowth right after he'd surfaced. They detonated with a roar, blowing away the remaining mist. As it had before, the cloud came rushing back almost as soon as it had been dispersed. She had shielded herself from the worst of the explosion with a wall of mud drawn from the lake bottom... putting her within range of his illusions, concealed from his eyes or not.

It would be her first and last mistake. Genjutsu was an oft-disregarded weapon in a shinobi's arsenal, but in the hands of a master it was devastating... and there was no one alive better than Uchiha Itachi.

-ooo-

Naruto fumbled through the milky air, coughing the last vestiges of water out of his lungs and wishing with all his heart he'd paid more attention to the lectures on fighting with limited visibility. In the distance, a crow shrieked. He could hear the sounds of two battles, but the mist pressed close on his ears, distorting distance and direction.

And he was getting a horrible prickling sensation between his shoulder blades, which he had the bad feeling he couldn't be blamed on the drops of water crawling down his spine. His foot came down on a dry twig, snapping it with a sound that seemed to echo through the trees. Stealth had never been among his strong suits either.

It probably didn't make any difference. There was already someone out there, watching him. He could just _tell_.

"Oh, screw this," he whispered to himself, pulling a couple of kunai from his thigh holster and planting his feet on the mossy ground. He'd make it up as he went along—he usually did. "Alright, come and get me, you bastard. You scared or some—" he said, and from nowhere a column of water slammed into his belly, pinning him to the trunk of a nearby tree. It split in two and the ropes curled around his hands, contorting his fingers into a position they were never meant to take. The two kunai fell at his feet. His hands were jerked around the rough bark and pinned against it wrist to wrist.

"Not really, no," Ao said dryly, coming forward from the concealing cloud. He was favoring one leg and limped to the convenient seat offered by a downed log.

As soon as he got back the breath that had been knocked from him, Naruto started struggling against the restraints. "Sensei messed you up good, didn't he?" Naruto said. "He's the _best_."

"He is very good. Better than I am," Ao admitted, and looked up at Naruto. "But I doubt he's the best. Not yet."

"What're you talking about? That old hag doesn't stand a chance!"

"Mei was a jōnin when your teacher was still sucking at his mother's tit, and you don't know how lucky you are that she can't hear you. She's killed men for less."

"Let me go and I'll say it to her face! If she hurts my brother I'll—"

Ao raised his arm, and with a flick of his wrist another tendril of water slapped against Naruto's mouth, silencing him. "Are you always this loud? Itachi must have the patience of a saint," he muttered.

Standing on the tips of his toes, Naruto managed to wiggle upward a centimeter or two. "Fight me, coward!" he screamed, before Ao nudged the restraints back up.

"No. My orders were specifically to restrain you." He checked the watch clipped to the inside of his coat. "Shouldn't be too long. The only man alive who could take down Mei is Hoshigaki Kisame, and, for all that she literally pulled the kid out of a dumpster, Haku has one of the strongest elemental kekkei genkai I've ever seen."

Naruto's eyes went wide, and he redoubled his efforts to work himself free. His shoulder were screaming, but it was nothing compared the possibility of losing his teammates.

"Tch. Don't get so worked up," Ao said. "We owe your captain for taking down Madara—Mei's just going to smack him around enough he can't follow us... she's not really out to kill him. And Haku's normally about as bloodthirsty as a baby bunny, so if they don't put up much of a fight he won't kill your friends... provided they don't really, _really_ piss him off."

That wasn't much consolation. Sasuke had refined his tendency to piss people off to an _art form_. Naruto gave one more halfhearted jerk against the water ropes, which were saturated with chakra and felt as durable as steel cables.

"What are the chances, hm?" Ao said to himself. He sat back against the decaying wood, studying Naruto's face intently. "You're kind of on the shrimpy side, but you could be twelve, thirteen at the most. And you're the spitting image. It's uncanny. Of course, why _else_ would you be on the Candidate Hokage's team? It's not like you're kage material, not from what I've seen. You would need one hell of a babysitter, though."

Unable to answer, Naruto could only look at him with an expression of pure bafflement. The spitting image of _who_? The Yondaime? People did point it out now and again, as a joke that Naruto didn't find particularly funny. No one would ever talk to him about his father. All of his attempts to extract the man's name from his adoptive parents had met with failure. They'd say he had been a great man, and a great shinobi, and then go quiet... like he'd done something so terrible the villagers would no longer speak of him. It wasn't as if blond-haired, blue-eyed men were rare in Konoha. He'd accepted a long time ago that being the son of Namikaze Minato was too good to be true.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Ao asked.

Naruto wiggled his head 'no'. Frustratingly, Ao only snickered quietly to himself, instead of elaborating, and then lapsed into silence.

He could've kicked himself for thinking that going after Haku alone would be a good idea. If he hadn't distracted Sasuke, then they probably would've been able to avoid Mei's wave, they wouldn't have become separated, and Sasuke and Sakura's wouldn't be—

Then he realized _could_ kick himself... literally. Ao hadn't bothered to bind his feet. And one of the kunai that had been torn from his hands looked like it was just close enough for him to touch with the sole of his sandal. It was hidden in the thick weeds, shining with promise.

Ao, Naruto decided, was extremely dangerous. So why hadn't he been killed on the spot? Given what he'd done to that poor, nameless Hyūga kid, his captor was obviously not the sentimental type. The memories were fuzzy with time, but he did recall pieces of a story Mikoto had once told him, something to distract him from the unpleasantness of being stuck sick in bed when he was small. Uzumaki Kushina has possessed 'very special chakra', something people from all over the continent had wanted. Now he finally knew what that _meant_. Why else would that woman have bothered to separate him from Sasuke and Sakura? Unless they needed him alive?

He glanced up at Ao. His hood had been thrown back, and the right side of his face beyond the eyepatch was still smooth. Hinata never kept her byakugan going unless she was actively using it. From what he could gather, it wasn't painful, but still seemed to be rather uncomfortable. As long as Ao wasn't looking at his feet, this might actually work.

Naruto started wiggling again, only a little at first, and then more frantically, as if trying to pull the ropes apart. His toes brushed against the ring of the kunai, which he pulled quickly under the sole of his sandal with a little dribble of chakra.

The renewed noise won him a quick glance from Ao, who rolled his eyes. "You're tenacious, aren't you. Not too bright, but ten points for effort."

With a tremendous wrench, Naruto pulled his mouth free of the ropes for a third time. "If you want to shut me up, old man, you'll have to cut out my tongue! You'll have to knock out my teeth! You'll have to kill me!"

Ao sighed and hefted himself off the log. He grabbed Naruto under the chin and jerked his head back. "Part of me really wants to see if you can keep blabbering with a broken jaw. Don't push—"

Naruto slid his foot back and slammed the kunai point into Ao's calf. The man cried out in surprise, and for a sliver of a second the water ropes lost their cohesion. Naruto tore his hands free and threw himself away from the treetrunk. He forced a wall of air across the forest behind him. Unsteady on his injured legs, the gale knocked his opponent to the ground, and Naruto turned and ran.

-ooo-

Sasuke hit a sturdy branch, hard, and wrapped his arms around it to pull himself out of the flood. Sakura did the same, struggling to keep her head above the ebbing wave.

"Sakura—you all right?" he called, dropping into the murky water.

"Yeah, I think so," she said, coughing a few times. She followed the sound of his voice, treading carefully on the debris-strewn ground. Her foot came down on something with a crunch; the sharp sound squeezed her heart in her chest, and only released it when she realize it was just rice straw.

From her left, Kosai groaned. "Was that my hat?"

"Sorry," Sakura murmured. She took a few more steps forward and felt her fingertips brush against the sheer side of a boulder, and then the hand the monk had braced against it. She helped him to his feet. "Are you hurt?"

"Only bruised, somehow." He pressed a piece of his wide sleeve into her hand, and she curled her fingers in the cloth. The mist was so dense everything not right at their noses disappeared into it. "Sasuke-kun? Can those eyes of yours see through this? I can't make out a thing."

"No," another voice answered for him. "They cannot."

Before it had finished speaking, Sasuke had drawn a kunai and whipped it in the direction of the voice. A groaning, crackling sound rose to meet it, and it never connected with its target. At first, Sasuke was afraid the force of the wave had uprooted a tree, but the timbre wasn't quite right. It was too high-pitched, like the squeaking of ice cubes as they bobbed in a glass.

The mist began to thin as the sound rose in intensity. Haku was standing amidst a ball of spines, like an enormous sea urchin. Another long spike of ice, gently curled, had trapped the kunai mid-flight, and to Sasuke's sharingan was luminescent with chakra. "I have been given instructions to detain you until Mei-san finishes with your jōnin sensei," he said. "It was... unfortunate that your team chose to undertake this mission. As long as you do not resist, you will not be harmed."

"If you think I'm going to wait here until that woman 'finishes' my brother, you're out of your mind!" Sasuke snarled. He brought his hands together for the gōkakyū, spitting the cone of flame at an impassive Haku. The spines snapped up vertically, forming a thick wall of ice. It hissed and snapped, but did not break.

There was a flicker of movement, and the stream of fire ended abruptly as pain lanced through Sasuke's forearm. The senbon had been thrown with incredible force, piercing deeply into the muscle.

Sakura screamed as another spike of ice shot up from the ground and slammed her hand against the boulder, pinning her and Kosai. More rose from the muddy ground to restrain their remaining free hands. The frigid water around Sasuke's toes surged up as well, but the intensity of the gathering chakra gave him enough time to spring away.

He landed beside Sakura and thrust a second kunai into the ice, trying to chip her hand free. The tip bent.

"I can tell you now that isn't going to do any good," Haku said. "I'm warning you one more time. Surrender."

"Like hell I will," Sasuke spat.

From the ice sheet he'd drawn up to defend himself, dozens of needles began whipping out of the surface, digging gouges into the boulder. Sakura snapped her head sideways to shield her eyes as she was peppered with shards of rock. When she opened them, Sasuke was no longer there. He had reappeared behind Haku and loosed a fistful of shuriken, but every one went spinning off target, deflected by the steel needles now protuding from the mud.

The mist surged up again to draw a curtain over the battlefield. Cold crackled across the ground as it consumed the puddles left by Mei's wave, leaving the ground a treacherous slick of ice.

"Overcoming an Uchiha is simple, if not easy," Haku said from behind a treetrunk, and drew another fistful of senbon from the holsters in his wide sleeves. "All the insight in the world won't do you any good if you're too slow to touch me."

Another hail of blades flew out of Sasuke's hands into the mist, but by the time they struck wood Haku was already gone, as if he'd sunk into the earth itself. There was no way he could move that quietly with the thick undergrowth and the ground coated in ice. Sasuke went cautiously to retrieve his weapons, and as he reached the tree in which they were lodged, his sandal skidded against the mirror-like surface of a frozen puddle.

He shifted his feet in the frost and waited for Haku to move again. When he did he was a blue blur, flitting from point to point so quickly Sasuke could only dodge or deflect three of the six needles that rained down on him. Two only clipped him, but the last buried itself in his calf, and he couldn't help but flinch through the fraction of a second he could have used to retaliate.

Fighting an opponent so damnably swift made it essentially impossible to bring any ninjutsu to bear; the moment he dropped the kunai to use a single handsign he'd end up with a senbon through his throat. With all the water around him, the ability to manipulate it would have been a tremendous boon, but Haku had been very careful to use only his hyōton when Sasuke's sharingan was trained on him. The kekkei genkai was impossible to copy; Sasuke wasn't even going to try.

The only warning he had before Haku's next attack was the rustle of the weeds and a slight disturbance in the mists currents as they curled around the trees. There was no crackling of footsteps against the frozen ground as another shower of senbon came arcing out of the cloud. He blocked five of them this time; reading the movement of the mist was getting a little easier with every volley.

He had to meet Haku hand-to-hand. There was no other way he could win this. He dashed forward despite the pain in his calf but met nothing. He was _sure_ the needles had come along this path, and yet there weren't even footprints. An experienced doton user could travel under the ground with ease, but that Haku had mastered that element in addition to wind, water, and ice was so unlikely it defied belief. He was too small and his voice was too close to the alto range for him to be more than a couple of years older than Sasuke himself.

Sasuke put his back to the dense limbs of a pine and waited for the next strike. When it came, he dove to the ground instead of trying to deflect the needles. The dancing mist had become a map to the disturbance within it. He threw the kunai in his hand and it connected; Haku hissed in pain and Sasuke could hear twigs snapping as momentarily lost his balance. But when Sasuke sprinted to the trunk in which his kunai had been buried, again Haku was nowhere to be seen. He wrenched it out of the tree, and as he knelt noticed two things.

One, that there was now a second tomoe in the eyes reflected in the mirrored surface, and two, that there were drops of blood frozen into the ice itself.

"Oh," Sasuke mouthed. The frozen puddles extended for meters in every direction. No matter which way he turned, there they were again, beneath his feet. He could move wherever he wished, but it hardly mattered.

The trap was moving with him. He had no way out.

-ooo-

The knowledge that Haku had dismissed her so easily sank into Sakura's chest and lodged there. She pulled against the searing cold of the restraints again, until it felt like her skin was going to tear away from her bones. No good. She blinked furiously against the tears she couldn't wipe away.

"Sakura... you're not scared, are you?" Kosai asked.

"Of course not," she lied.

"Oh... that's good," he answered, in a faint voice. "Because I'm terrified. I don't suppose you have any shinobi tricks for getting us out of this?"

"We need our hands free to make signs, and I can't reach anything in my pouches," Sakura said. She bit her lip, trying to think. There _were_ techniques that didn't require handsigns, but although she was aware of them in theory the most advanced thing she could manage herself was a very basic visual genjutsu. What they needed was a way to cut themselves free, and steel weapons and heat were no use against ice fortified with chakra. "Wait..." she breathed. "Kosai-san, you can use the chakra scalpel, can't you?"

"Yes, but I can't extend it more than seven or eight centimeters from the palms of my hands. What good is that going to do?"

"If you can carve out a chunk by my right hand, I think I can just reach the wire in my thigh holster," she whispered back. "There's meters of it, and I can manipulate it without actually having to move. If I can hold Haku still for even a second, Sasuke could end this."

"All right. I'll try." He closed his eyes, and the ice began to shine faintly blue. After a minute or two he flexed his fingers hopefully. "I think it's working, but it'll be slow going. This stuff is tougher than steel."

"Keep at it," she ordered. "Fast as you can. I... don't think Sasuke has much time to wait around for us."

Maintaining the chakra scalpel took all of his concentration, so there was no point to trying to engage the monk in conversation. All she could do was wait and pray he could cut through the ice in time. The warning had been true—Haku _was_ faster. It was torture to hear Sasuke's cries of pain, again and again and again. Since Haku seemed to have a nearly endless supply of senbon, the possibility that he would run out of weapons before Sasuke ran out of strength was growing more and more distant.

Haku was herding him back towards her, trying to keep him from joining the battle against Terumï Mei. The mist had dispersed enough that she could just see the outline of of Sasuke's body between the trees. She almost cried out when the last senbon Sasuke took forced him to his knees, but clamped her jaw shut. She couldn't afford to draw attention to the glow around Kosai's hand, or all of this would be for nothing.

"Almost there?" she whispered fiercely to Kosai.

"Almost. Stay still. I don't want to cut you." He took three or four more shaky breaths, and then said, "Got it."

She cracked the remaining paper-thin crust of ice herself, and pushed her thigh as close to her fingers as she could manage. Sweating with the effort, she worked her thumb under the lip of the pouch. The wire was looped around a hook tacked to the inside of the canvas, right next to her kunai. But the angle was so awkward she'd have to all but dislocate her hip to get her fingers close enough.

"Can you reach it?" Kosai asked.

"No," she said miserably. "It's too far down. I—" She broke off and hissed in pain as her thumb brushed against the razor edge of a kunai. "No wait, think I _can _reach it."

Fresh blood carried chakra; every Academy student learned that. If she could create an unbroken path of it from her thumb to the wire, she could manipulate it. She grit her teeth. Even numb as her fingers were, this was still going to hurt. Very deliberately, she pressed her skin against the blade and slid it down. The drops of blood crept down the heavy canvas, then connected with the wire. Like a blind worm, its tip poked out of the pouch flap and dove into the muddy ground.

"You, my dear, are a genius," Kosai whispered through a lopsided smile.

-ooo-

Sasuke stumbled out of the trees. Ropes of ice rose from the wet ground, striking like snakes to herd him against the line of boulders. Too stiff and slow with pain to twist fully out of their way, he was trapped on the wrong side as they laced themselves into a dome cage above his head. Haku dismissed the remaining mist and came forward to stand before his prisoners.

Sakura looked up at her opponent through her lashes, gulping back her fear. _This_ was what she'd been waiting for. He was near enough for her to lay the subtlest genjutsu over his eyes, a veil to hide the position of her hand and the shine of her weapon against the rock. She was only going to get one chance at this. If she mistimed it, they were as good as dead. She sent a strong pulse of her chakra running through the wire to keep it tunneling its way through the ground. She coaxed the line up, allowing a bit of slack, until enough to loop around his torso had emerged from the dirt.

"Do you surrender?" Haku asked. His expression was unreadable behind the mask. "You are trying my patience, and I will not ask you again. If you make another move against me, you will die."

Sasuke glanced over his shoulder, his eyes burning with tears of shame. But then his sharingan caught the blue glow of the line that unspooled from Sakura's hip. He drew an incredulous breath as their eyes met. His attention snapped back to Haku. He didn't seem to have noticed the wire in front of him... or the wire at his _back_, which was poised and ready just behind his right bicep.

"Please, Sasuke-kun," she murmured to his back. "We can't win."

His fingers uncurled from the hilt of the kunai, and it fell to the ground with a dull thunk. He raised his hands slowly above his head and allowed his shaky legs to give way. "I surrender."

Haku raised his arms slightly, palms up, and sent two water ropes through the struts of the cage. One secured Sasuke's hands together, back to back so he couldn't form signs. The other nosed into his weapons pouches to disarm him.

Sakura took a deep breath. Naruto and Sasuke had both done it—taken a life. If she didn't think too hard about the next ten seconds, she'd be able to pass that test as well. The end of the wire lashed around Haku's upper arms and pulled taut. He saw it, but had to dissolve the water ropes before he could leap clear. There was a moment of indecision, as he was forced to weigh this new threat against the one Sasuke presented, and he wasn't quite fast enough. The wire bit into Haku's arms as he strained vainly against it, and then another loop spiraled up to settle around his throat. Her eyes stinging, she pulled it tighter. Blood welled up in the tracks. It was just like she had practiced on saplings. Easier, even. There was more give to flesh than wood.

Gasping in shock and frustration, Haku abruptly stopped struggling. With his right hand, still bound tight against his body, he formed five quick seals neither genin had ever seen before. The muddy water at their feet began to vibrate like the skin of a drum. The drops shot into the air, flattening and elongating into a dozen blades. They hovered, motionless, every point staring straight at Sakura. Her left hand was still trapped against the boulder. She had nowhere to run.

Sasuke swore and spurred his aching legs to move as the deadly rain hissed down.

The wire around Haku's body went limp, and he shrugged it loose and pulled the loop free of his neck. With a strong jerk he pulled the remainder free of Sakura's pouch. He coughed a few times to relieve the pressure in his throat and then said, "I warned you."

"Sasuke-kun..." Sakura whispered. "Why did you... _SASUKE!"_

-ooo-

Mei gasped and doubled over, her hands sinking into the silt. Itachi paced nearer. The faint swish of his steps over the water were cloaked from her ears. The vision of Yagura that had forced her to her knees began to twine his fingers in the locks of her long hair. He had not been a tall man, in fact barely more than a child, when Kirigakure had imploded in the wake of Madara's death. But the Yondaime Mizukage had still been a jinchūriki, and being in his presence was akin to standing beneath a basket of rocks suspended by a rapidly fraying length of rope. Light the color of an old bruise welled up from his skin. He jerked her head back, running his other hand under the collar of her coat. Coils of chakra held her arms fast. His fingers slipped behind her high collar to caress to delicate skin of her neck. Cloaked in the bijū's effervescent chakra, his touch burned like acid.

"I never looked in your eyes," she whispered. "I never…" Beads of sweat stood out against her upper lip, and she moaned through clenched teeth but held her composure. He could feel her straining against the illusion, but genjutsu did not seem to be one of her strengths, and she would never be able to break it fighting like this.

"True," Itachi said, through the apparition's lips. "But no one ever said that was the _only_ way to pull you under, and I have seen that trick of mist before."

Helpless in his grip, Mei started to chuckle through the agony. "Then you'll have to do better than this," she whispered.

Pain sliced through Itachi's calf, as a slender, razor-edged snake grasped his right leg and cut deep into the muscle. Her arms had been held fast; this was shape manipulation of the highest order. He quickly snapped the tendril of water, but the pain had been enough to break his hold on her. Forced on the defensive, he jumped clear of the lake as more of the sinuous blades rose from the water to nip at his flesh.

Itachi had held her five senses chained to his will; she should not have been able to hear his approach. The obvious answer, therefore, was that she had more than five senses. "You allowed me trap you," he said, gritting his teeth against the pain of putting weight on his injured leg. "The water is saturated with your chakra—you could feel the pressure of my feet against the surface."

She pushed herself to her feet, still breathing hard. "Very good," she said from the mist, carefully keeping her distance. "Most men die before they realize it. Now that I know your range, this will be over soon."

She was fiendishly talented at suiton ninjutsu, shaping the water through will alone. By its nature, it would be able to overpower almost any fire technique he could throw at her, and the amount of power required to overcome the elemental disadvantage would quickly bankrupt his chakra stores. He _had_ to sink the claws of an illusion in her again, or it would be over.

The stones on the bank tittered, as if caught in a private joke, and without warning his equilibrium was stolen as his heels sank into the gravel. The piece merged into a sheet of rock, trapping the soles of his sandals. Mei inhaled sharply, pursed her lips, and blew.

By the time Itachi had realized the source of the hissing, crackling sound, the spray of lava had begun its downward arc. It crashed down on him, ready to roast flesh and crack bones.

Then the black skin of rock... simply stopped. A second red glow had joined the first, splitting through the rapidly cooling lava. It fell, in pieces, to the ground. His clothing and hair was smoking, faintly, from the radiant heat, but aside from a faint redness on the exposed skin of his hands, he was completely unharmed.

The mist was fading—Mei was starting to tire. Though her techniques were devastating, the cost to her chakra reserves was high. Through the clearing air, Itachi could see that the left sleeve of her coat was split, the edges charred and the skin beneath burned and peppered with shrapnel from his explosive tags. She brought her hands together again to execute a handful of signs, then struck the ground to release the technique, her red hair spilling onto the stones. No experienced kunoichi kept their hair that long out of vanity, she was no exception. It shone like rivulets of fire, which crawled quickly across the ground to where Itachi stood. The earth began to split beneath the supernatural armor. Molten rock glowed in the fissures.

Itachi watched impassively as the bulk of Susanō rose from the earth, shielding him completely from the heat. Its legs were planted in a bubbling pit of lava.

Mei took a step back, her jaw locked. Uncertainty had crept into her eyes. The warrior's scowling face turned to her, and, with a speed than ran counter to its size, swept a massive fist toward her. It impacted the stone wall she drew up to defend herself, shattering the sheet of rock and sending her tumbling. She came to rest on her belly, splayed over a tangle of roots. Still, she struggled up again, braced against the trunk for support, her back to him. Her breathing was ragged; that blow had broken ribs.

The power of the Susanō uncoiled, first its cloak, then its armor, then its flesh, until all that was left were the bones. As loathe as he was to relinquish the only shield he had against her lava, the pressure of exhaustion made the decision for him. He dried his eyes on his sleeve, forcing the sticky, viscous nature of the liquid out of his mind. His eyes were tearing so badly he could barely see.

Holding the final form of his perfect shield was so draining he couldn't keep it up for more than a few minutes, and besides the exhaustion, it _hurt_. He was no stranger to pain, but after a certain point the human brain simply couldn't function at its full capacity when the body was in agony.

She raised her head, keeping her eyes resolutely closed. The damp strands of her hair obscured most of her face. "I see why Sarutobi chose you to succeed him. The only other man who's tested me like this was Hoshigaki Kisame. Truth be..." she began, but the words were strangled by the pain of her cracked ribs. "Truth be told, I think you're better," she said, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you surrender?" he asked. "You know I cannot take you as a prisoner."

"I do... and I know. All I ask is that you make it quick."

"I dislike taking lives, few more so than shinobi of honor who have been at common purposes with me in the past," Itachi said quietly, and drew one of his kunai. "If you had been victorious all those years ago, I have no doubt you would have made a great Mizukage. But, as you said... we do what we must."

She pressed her fingers to her lips, to blow him a farewell kiss.

The corrosive mist on that breath hissed through Susanō's ribcage, worming dozens of invisible holes through Itachi's 'perfect' defense. He didn't even notice the burning pain in his eyes over the ache already there, and it was only when the mist found its way down his throat that he realized something was very wrong. The urge to cough was impossible to suppress. His control over Susanō evaporated as her jutsu tore into the delicate tissues.

He threw the kunai with unerring accuracy into her eye; the body dissolved into a puddle. She must have tunneled under the gravel just before the Susanō's fist had connected. She would be nearby, probably within range of illusions, but the burning pain in his throat and chest was so intense he was having difficulty breathing without being caught up in another spasm of coughing. Black was starting to creep around the edges of his vision, and his head felt like it may very well separate from his body and float off into the sky. He shoved it aside long enough to scan for her chakra signature, desperate to trap her again.

And then the bottom fell out of the world.

-ooo-

"_Sasuke!_" Sakura screamed.

There was so much anguish in her voice it hit Naruto like a blow to the solar plexus. Sakura's scream had come from over there. That sickening rage was rising up behind his eyes again. Memories of a warning and the Hokage's worried face were drowned by it. If Sasuke was dead, he didn't care what the old man had said. He dropped down on all fours and began to run. The muddy ground was rimed with frost that crackled under his steps. The cuts on his palms from the razor edges of the ice healed over as soon as they'd been made.

He arrived at the lattices of the ice cage and shattered the side with one swing of his fist. Sakura was still pinned, Sasuke limp on the ground in front of her. The rage was whipping out of Naruto's body in palpable waves. Sakura screamed again as it washed over her, a killing intent with the force of a hurricane. Sasuke didn't move, didn't twitch... didn't inhale, didn't exhale.

"_You did this_!" Naruto screamed. His voice held the undertones of an avalanche, a forest fire, a great beast ready to spring. "_I'll kill you!" _

Naruto's chakra spun out in a wide circle, cutting gouges in the dirt. The ice outside of it began to steam, and it sent Haku's hair and robe rippling in the wind. He brought his arms up instinctively to shield his eyes—a futile gesture, since this was no earthly wind. He took a stumbling step backward.

"No… he's not—" Haku started, but the rest of his protest had been drowned beneath the gale of chakra.

Naruto growled, and the energy spiraled faster and faster until what was left of the ice cage exploded. Sakura started screaming again and didn't stop, but the glittering shards of ice were propelled outward. None touched her, Sasuke, or Kosai.

When the shattering ceased, she lifted her head, hesitantly. The ground was littered with twigs and pine needles. Shards of ice had been driven into the dirt, thrown into the tree trunks with such force their thick bark had split. What remained of the ice dome was steaming into nothing. Between two of those damaged trees their opponent was crouched on his hands and knees, covered in cuts and his mask askew.

Naruto stalked to where he had fallen. He could smell the gore in the air, an intoxicating bouquet. He grabbed Haku by a handful of his shirt and pulled him up. He felt strong enough to tear out his throat with his bare hands—with his _teeth_. He could almost taste it, a memory a distant part of him knew was not his own, of human blood rolling across a long, slender tongue.

"No," Haku whispered. "He's still alive. I never intended—"

"You're lying. He wasn't breathing. You can't save yourself by—"

Haku glanced over Naruto's shoulder and coughed. "See for yourself," he said weakly.

Another voice. Sasuke's voice. Naruto turned to see Sakura and Kosai easing him up into a sitting position, injured and disoriented but indisputably _alive_. He turned back to Haku. He was coughing again, choking. Blood was slipping down his chin, beneath the pure white porcelain of his mask. It splattered onto Naruto's sleeve, quickly soaking through the jacket to his skin. All of the demonic strength drained out of him at once, and Haku's body suddenly became too heavy to hold. The other boy fell on his side, one hand pressed to the rent in his belly.

Sasuke was all right, but Naruto's eyes were still filling with tears. "I didn't... I didn't mean to..."

"_Sasuke!_" Itachi called, sprinting through the trees. His eyes quickly took in the scene; Sasuke covered in punctures but not critically wounded, and Naruto crouched a short distance away, his tears falling not for Sasuke but an enemy spitting up blood into the moss. He turned at the sound of uneven footsteps; Ao wasn't even trying to quiet them.

"Itachi-san," he began, his hands held wide in a gesture of surrender. "If that boy is truly a jinchūriki, we are no longer your enemies. Seeing him safe supersedes our previous mission to abduct your client. It never sat right with me anyway, going after a holy man."

He had to clear the thick feeling out of his throat with another spate of coughing before he could answer. "What reason would I have to believe you?" Itachi asked.

"None," Ao admitted. "But if you're anywhere near as good with your sharingan as your teacher was, you already know I'm not lying." He looked to where Haku was curled between the trees. "You may have been able to overcome Mei, but it came at quite a price, didn't it? You're a couple jutsu away from passing out. How about we call it a draw."

Itachi narrowed his eyes in puzzlement. Ao _was_ telling the truth, for reasons he couldn't even begin to guess. Criminals they may have been, but they had opposed Kisame and Madara and all the cruelties they had perpetuated. They'd had multiple opportunities to kill his genin, but had refrained, and at great cost to one of their own. It went counter to Konoha's very explicit laws concerning foreign missing-nin, but Itachi still intended to repay the favor.

"Like I told your captain, I have no desire to kill you," he said, and inclined his head in Haku's direction. "See to your wounded. I won't interfere."

Mei appeared a moment later, still breathless from the injuries she'd sustained during their confrontation. She grit her teeth when she saw Ao bent over Haku.

"I called us a truce," Ao explained, and looked down at the bloody mess the shards of ice had made of Haku's clothes. "But the kid's bleeding out. Without a medic he doesn't have a chance. Mei... I'm sorry."

Kosai paused from examining Sasuke and looked up.

"You," Mei called, addressing Kosai. "You are a doctor? Can you use the shosen technique?"

He pushed Sakura aside and got to his feet. "Yes."

"I'll give you whatever you want. Money... protection... It was probably your abbot that betrayed you. I'll kill him for you, if you want me to. Just... just help him."

"I already know what he did, and I'm _not_ having you murder anyone for me... but I'll do whatever I can for that child," Kosai said.

"They're criminals," Itachi said, moving to take the monk by the arm. "Sasuke comes first."

"I am not one of your subordinates and you don't give me orders," Kosai said, his voice like steel. "This boy is now my patient and in critical condition. Your brother is seriously injured but stable. You have your duties as a shinobi, and I have mine as a physician. Don't imagine for a moment I won't fight as hard to fulfill mine as you would to fulfill yours."

It was the full, shining truth. Accomplished liar though he was, Itachi disliked going back on a promise, and he could not help but respect a devotion to duty. Kosai had pledged his life to serving the sick and the injured—rich or poor, old or young, friend or foe. Itachi let him go.

"Start getting Sasuke-kun cleaned up," Kosai said, pacing backwards, towards the group from Kiri, "and I'll disinfect and patch over the puncture wounds as soon as I'm done with Haku-kun. And then take a look at _you_ too, for that matter."

When the monk had gone, Sasuke glanced up at his elder brother. "I was too weak. I'm sorry I couldn't..."

"Don't apologize to me," Itachi said, kneeling beside him again. "You could never have beaten that boy on your own. That you could protect Sakura and hold out for as long as you did is proof of your skill."

Sasuke looked away. "It would have been if he'd really been trying to kill me."

"We'll discuss this later, Sasuke," Itachi said, looking faintly troubled. "Sakura, I need all the sterile gauze you have in your pack. Naruto, see if you can find something reasonably clean for him to bite down on. Taking care of these is going to hurt."

-ooo-

Both Sasuke and Haku were resting next to the crackling fire, dosed with as much poppy infusion as Kosai dared to give them. Sasuke was awake, if muzzy with the effects of the drug, and was staring with fascination at the flickering of the flames. Sakura was curled up by his head with her chin on her knees, every-so-often glancing at Naruto with frightened eyes, as if to reassure herself he hadn't sprouted fangs and a tail since the last time she'd checked.

Looking over to his other companions around the fire was even less reassuring. Haku was reacting far worse than Sasuke to his dose of the painkiller. There was no point in thanking him for his mercy; the drugs had carried him so far into a hallucinatory haze Naruto's words would never penetrate. His fingers clenched and unclenched in the dirt, his lips working over an endless stream of apologies to his father and mother that Mei's gentle voice couldn't quiet.

Naruto looked up when Kosai sat down heavily in the empty space next to him. He'd stripped off his bloodstained outer robes to wash them in the lake, but for all that scrubbing there was still brown beneath the fingernails of the hands he was warming against the fire. Naruto couldn't help but notice the monk took the farthest patch of ground he possibly could without sitting down on Ao's coat.

"You fixed up Haku like you fixed up Sensei, right?" Naruto asked into the uncomfortable quiet. "He's going to be fine. Right?"

Kosai slowly shook his head. "Those shards of ice tore open his stomach and clipped one of the major arteries that feeds his abdominal organs. Without a blood transfusion and strong antibiotics, his body won't be able to fight off the infection that's going to set in. There's only so much I can do without access to a hospital and more medical supplies. The nearest is the monastery, and if I go back there..."

"There's one over the border," Ao volunteered. "In Storm Country. Two days away, carrying wounded. The border guard will let us through."

"The border guard doesn't let anyone—" Itachi said.

"They'll let us through," Ao repeated.

Kosai cocked his head. "You're with Akatsuki, aren't you," he said. Mei paused from stroking Haku's dark hair to stare. "I thought it dissolved years ago, but your hitai-ate... that slash through it was their symbol."

"You've heard of it?" Mei asked.

"Yes, of course," Kosai said. "My temple is on Lake Tsuwano; we got more than our fair share fleeing Storm Country during the last war. They were the only shinobi that seemed to care how devastating the fighting was to the land and the people. The refugees considered them heroes... and so did I. They set up defense perimeters around hospitals and storehouses, disarmed abandoned exploding tags, stole girls out of brothels and got them back to their families. They weren't all angels by any means, but at least they _tried. _When we heard their leader—Yahiko, I think it was?—was trying to broker a peace between Iwa, Konoha, and Suna, it seemed as though an end was finally..." He shook his head. "But next thing we heard was that Hanzo of the Salamander had massacred them all."

"No," Ao said, smiling a crooked smile, "not all of them."

"You're from Kirigakure," Itachi said, suddenly keenly interested in the conversation. "What attraction could a group like Akatsuki possibly hold for you?"

"I didn't like the way Hoshigaki did things," Ao answered. "Hell, I didn't like the way _I_ was doing things. The older I got, the less worth it all the killing seemed. What was the point? When Mei cut loose from Kiri, I went with her. More than a few of us did. What she wanted and what Akatsuki wanted lined up, so we joined them."

"That _does_ make me wonder why would you'd take a job like this," Kosai commented, sour.

"Revolutions are expensive," Mei answered. "Our leader believes the end justifies the means. So did your abbot, apparently."

"The end justifies the means?" he scoffed. "Have you seen what smoking that stuff _does_ to people? Could you tell that to the babies born so addled they're crying for it over their mothers' milk?"

"It's a price that has to be paid," Mei murmured. "Or nothing will ever change."

Kosai just shook his head, looking disgusted, and pulled his flask out of the inner pocket of his robes.

"Tch. What the hell kind of monk _are_ you?" Ao asked, eyeing the silver container, although his tone was as jocular as the situation allowed.

Kosai lowered it from his lips, considered the contents for a moment, and then passed it to the shinobi beside him. "I'm not. Not anymore."

Ao shrugged, took it, and swallowed a mouthful.

"Idealogical differences aside, my other offer still stands," Mei said. "A doctor of your skill wouldn't be lacking for work in Amegakure, and with Akatsuki's protect no one from the Gatō Corporation would be able to touch you. How far do you think you could get with an enemy like that on your track?"

Itachi pushed himself to his feet and looked down at Kosai. "Can I speak to you for a moment? In private?"

The monk nodded, and the two men withdrew into the trees. "You are seriously considering this, aren't you?" Itachi asked. "Before you make _any_ sort of decision, you ought to know that Uchiha Madara had a hand in reforming Akatsuki, and he was one of the most vile shinobi the world has ever seen. He's been dead for years, but we can't be sure of their true intentions."

"True enough," Kosai answered. "But it was _founded_ by a young man who was one of the most selfless shinobi the world has ever seen. I think I'm going to take my chances."

"You are far too quick to judge people," Itachi cautioned.

"Then what would you suggest I do? No offense to you, Itachi-sensei, but to hell with Fire Country in general and my monastery in particular. I'm an old man with no power and no money. I can't fight someone like Gatō. He's your Hokage's problem now." Kosai removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes at length. "And I can't in good conscience abandon a patient," he said. "That boy will never make it to the hospital without my help, but if I go with them he might have a sliver of a chance."

"And what about Sasuke?"

"He'll be fine. Back on his feet in a couple of days, although he's not going to like it. I don't know how the hell Haku-kun did it, but his needles didn't puncture a single vital organ or major blood vessel. Consider this mission is over. You're free to return to Konoha."

"If that is truly what you wish," Itachi said, reluctantly. "If you like, I can report that you suffered a heart attack on the journey back. Our mission will have been completed successfully and it will discourage awkward questions. I can take the cloud poppy to the Nara clan; their Head is a good man–trustworthy–and I believe they would know how to process it."

"Fine with me," Kosai said. "As long as it ends up in a hospital and not some skid-row hotel, I don't care who gets it."

Kosai and Itachi made their way back to the ring of firelight. "I'm going with you," Kosai announced, looking to Mei. "We should head out as soon as possible. The faster we can get fluids and medication in him, the better his chances are going to be, although it's still..."

"Understood," she said, "and thank you."

"I can carry him, now that my leg is fixed up," Ao offered.

Mei finished packing up their meager supplies, then helped Haku onto Ao's back. He was only barely conscious, and Mei had to lash his wrists together with a length of rope to keep his arms around Ao's neck.

"Don't go dying on us, got it?" Ao muttered over his shoulder. "You may be a mouthy brat, but I think I'd miss having you around."

Naruto stood up and brushed off his jacket, looking up at Mei. "If he wakes up, please tell him I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry..."

Mei had taken both her and Ao's packs. She swung one over her shoulder and paused with the other clenched in her fist, her face grave. "Uchiha Naruto-kun," she said, inclining her head slightly. "If he lives, you can tell him yourself. We will meet again."


	7. Chapter 7

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 7 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Sasuke frowned, worrying at the straps of the pack on his shoulders. The puncture wounds he'd received had been carefully cleaned and patched over, and the pain had mostly faded to tolerability. Itachi had still insisted on making a stop whenever the ache in his legs got so bad he could no longer hide the limp. It was, to be truthful, a little irritating... especially given the condition Itachi himself was in.<p>

Annoying though the condescension was, concern for his older brother was winning out. Even after coming down from the thinner mountain air, he had remained short of breath, and the wet, hacking cough that had plagued him after the encounter with Mei's corrosive mist hadn't improved either. He was scrupulously careful to turn away when he was seized by one of the fits, but after they'd broken for lunch Sasuke had caught him spitting out something suspiciously dark.

Coughing up blood was something that would alarm most people into seeking immediate medical treatment, but Itachi was, of course, not most people. He did things like carry an unconscious teammate all the way back to Konoha on a fractured fibula, and then have to be ordered _back_ to the hospital by their mother to have it set. He wouldn't admit to feeling unwell until he was about to pass out—sometimes not even then. This particular instance was going to require desperate (and humiliating) measures, but if Itachi wasn't going to take care of himself, someone had to. After all... he'd been so insistent on seeing his genin be willing to depend on each other, he'd forgotten that applied to him, too.

Sasuke let his pace slacken, as if favoring one leg. Once he judged his teammates far enough ahead not to see him roll his eyes, he dropped to his hands and knees in the road.

"Sasuke!" Sakura cried, immediately jogging back to where he had fallen. "What's wrong? Are your legs still...?" She turned back to Itachi. "Sensei... does he look pale to you? That inn is only about ten minutes' walk back. Maybe we should turn around in case he starts feeling worse."

With Naruto and Sakura's eyes on Itachi, Sasuke raised his his head, his eyebrows arched in a silent question. His brother knew full well _Sasuke_ wasn't the one who needed the rest. "I just feel a little dizzy," he lied. "I think I'll be okay with some sleep."

"Once the mission is done, you can't lose anything by being cautious," Itachi reluctantly agreed. "Naruto, Sakura, help him up."

Naruto gave Sasuke a strange look as he took one arm, but said nothing. The road they were travelling was packed dirt, wide enough for a cart to pass but seldom used, now that Storm Country had closed its borders. They hiked back to the three-way crossroads they'd just passed. A small shrine had been erected where the paths joined. The stone figure in the nook had its hand raised in blessing, clay beads scattered at its feet from a string that had rotted away long ago. There was also a hand-painted wooden stake advertising the services of the only inn for kilometers in any direction. "West it is. We're already overdue," Itachi said inclining his head to the right fork. "Another day won't make much difference."

"The sign says it's east," Naruto corrected, quizzical, pointing to the left.

Itachi paused, his eyes flickering back to the faded words on the post again. "Of course... I misspoke."

The establishment was shabby and wilting for lack of customers. Naruto and Sakura 'helped' Sasuke to their rooms while the proprietor, a chubby, grandmotherly woman, fluttered around Itachi. The inn was built around a small natural hot spring that made the whole complex smell faintly of rotten eggs, but the prospect of a warm soak was so enticing they could ignore it. After their packs had been dropped off in a corner of the room, they jogged out back to investigate the bathing accommodations.

To Sakura's chagrin, the place was such a backwater there was only one pool... and no dividing screen. "Oh, lovely," she groused under her breath, after sticking her head out of the shack holding the shower facilities. It was, now that she looked at it more closely, essentially a bucket with holes in it.

"This inn is kind of a dump," Sakura announced to her teacher, after the three of them had returned to the rooms. "It's unisex bathing."

Itachi tucked the receipts for the stay into a case in his pack. The price for the level of accommodation bordered on ridiculous, but his expense account could easily absorb the hit—especially if it meant they could all finally wash in water more than a few degrees above freezing. "You haven't been out of the village much, have you," Itachi observed. "Family bathing is traditional in more rural areas. And that is much of the country."

"You can come in with us, I don't mind," Naruto offered graciously, from another corner of the room.

"Yeah, I'll bet you don't," Sakura muttered. The prospect of Naruto seeing _her _naked was placed on the scale across from the prospect of her seeing _Sasuke _naked, and the two ideas swayed in perfect balance.

"Come on, you know you want to," Naruto prodded.

"I'll think about it," Sakura said, before stepping over to her side of the room and pulling the screen door closed.

-ooo-

The male portion of the team undressed and washed in the decidedly rustic facilities. The towels and robes provided were slightly stiff and threadbare, but clean. The two farmers that had been joking with each other in the pool suddenly became very quiet and politely excused themselves when they saw the lace of old scars that decorated Itachi's torso. Someone in one of the other rooms flipped on a radio, and strains of gritty shamisen music began to waft through the air.

Itachi left the conversation to Naruto and Sasuke to spare his raw throat, but the two younger boys were uncharacteristically quiet. After about fifteen minutes, there came the faint slap of bare feet against the stones. Naruto turned to the doorway and hooked his hands on the lip of the pool. His face lit up. "You're coming in too?" Naruto asked, as Sakura pushed aside the screen.

Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she was pulling self-consciously on the towel she'd tucked tightly around herself. She too was sporting a few pinpricks on her extremities, but they weren't nearly as bad as what Sasuke had received. "I'm so tired I don't want to wait," she said, her arms crossed tight against her chest. "Naruto, you try to look up my towel, or pull it loose, or pinch me, or even... even _look_ at me funny, I will end you. Got it?"

"You hit really hard, Sakura-chan. Not even funny looks, I promise."

Sakura sniffed and walked to the edge of the pool to dip in a toe. Satisfied the water was just this side of tolerable, she slipped in with a sigh of relief. Her arms she crossed on the ledge and lowered her forehead down on them.

"Can I still talk to you as long as I keep staring at that tree branch over there?" Naruto asked.

"What? Yeah, of course," she answered.

Naruto readjusted himself so his back was to Sakura. "I think that chakra wire should officially be yours now. Sasuke told me you were totally amazing with it."

She sprang up, snapping her head around. "He said what?"

Unfortunately, she managed to time this at the exact moment Sasuke had pushed himself out of the pool to grab a washcloth from above his head. He choked and dropped down to his chin in the water.

"What the... _Sakura-chan_!" Naruto wailed. "So it's okay for you to stare at Sasuke's bare butt, but if I even look at you with a towel on, you get to punch me? How is _that_ fair?"

"It's different!" Sakura insisted.

"How?"

"Would you both grow up?" Sasuke snapped at them, as the water lapped at his lips. "If she ends up as our medic she's going to be seeing us all naked eventually."

"But the... gaaa_aah_!"

Itachi sighed. "I suggest you three work it out yourselves, because _I_ am..." The words were drowned in a deluge of coughing. "...going back upstairs."

Sasuke pushed himself up to the lip of the pool after Itachi had climbed out. "I'm sorry, I promise we'll stop. The innkeeper said this water is supposed to be good for breathing prob—"

"And now you're doing the same thing to Sensei!" Naruto continued, undeterred by the scolding. "You're a perv! A girl perv! I didn't even know they _made_ those!"

Itachi paused from tucking the towel around his waist to give Sakura a very, very strange look.

"I—I was _not_," Sakura said, who had turned beet red, out of a combination of fury and absolute mortification. "Naruto, you're lucky I can't strangle you and hold this towel closed at the same time."

Another sigh. "Like I said. I am going back upstairs."

-ooo-

Itachi left the genin in the pool to bicker and tied the inn's robe around his waist. Now that he was clean, he had no desire to don his uniform again, which was in need of a thorough laundering, but he did strap on his wrist sheath. ANBU training died hard, and spending even half an hour without wearing a weapon made him uncomfortable.

His students had swung from almost total silence to being louder and more obnoxious than usual, and since Naruto's baseline was already impressive this was saying something. All of them were on edge, raw, and trying not to think too hard about how closely death had brushed past them. If Mei and her companions hadn't been so reluctant to harm his genin out of gratitude for ending Madara's reign of terror, all three of them would be dead by now. Itachi had served as a squad captain for almost seven years. He had seen men and women—even children as young as his pupils were now—die under his command. When he had gone to the Hokage with his preferred team roster he'd been so sure he could play the role of impartial commanding officer. He deliberately curtailed the amount of time he spent training Sasuke to focus on Sakura. They went through the months of D-Ranks like the other genin. He didn't play favorites. He didn't bend the rules. Village first, family second. It was, he suspected, what the Hokage had wished to test in his successor when he had allowed such an unorthodox team configuration.

And yet, when the choice had been presented, he had placed Sasuke's well-being ahead of Konoha's very explicit laws concerning missin-nin, and knew, if were to go through the motions again, his decision would remain the same. Kakashi must have rubbed off on him more than he'd realized.

They'd be tiring of the springs soon. He might as well order dinner so it would be in the room when they dried off. Some might say they all deserved a merit promotion on the spot, so treating them to a meal was the very least he could do. He flicked on the lamp and picked up the rectangle of battered cardstock from the table.

He couldn't read a single word on it. He squinted, rubbed his eyes... and still couldn't read it. He tossed the menu back and pulled open the door to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. Without the clarity offered by his sharingan, even his own reflection was blurred in the frame of the tarnished mirror.

Itachi knew the price of the Mangekyō, but if his choice was between using it and losing a teammate... there was no choice. During his tenure as an ANBU captain he had consistently brought his subordinates back more often and in better shape than anyone else, even Kakashi, and it was thanks in a very large part to perfect shield he held in Susanō.

His scores on the vision tests had been declining slowly but steadily since his fifteenth birthday, exactly as the warning on the stone beneath the clan shrine had predicted. The tablet had also contained the remedy to his predicament, but Itachi had decided as soon as he read it he would never, ever ask that sacrifice of his mother—the donor would not survive it. Itachi had sought another way... and with patience had found it. Blindness was a frightening but not insurmountable obstacle; after the symptoms of the technique's corrosive nature had started to manifest, a succession of calls were paid to very exclusive, very discreet opthmalogists all over the country. The efforts of his physicians had been promising. The treatments they'd uncovered so far had partially reversed his vision loss, and they were extremely confident a cure could be found before he was to assume the position of Godaime. Tutoring a genin team in peacetime was not a dangerous position for a jōnin as skilled as he. In theory, he should have been able to get through the year without bringing forth the Mangekyō even once.

He hastily dried his face when the door to the room opened and shut again. It was Naruto; there was no other ninja quite as loud. He stuck his head through the half-open bathroom door. "Can I, um, talk to you about something?" he said hesitantly. "Sasuke and Sakura-chan are still in the bath. He won't get out 'til she does."

"I see. What is it?" Itachi asked, although he already knew.

Naruto wandered over to the table in the center of the room and sat down with a thump. He drew his legs beneath his chin and put his head down on his knees, saying nothing for a long time. "It's been three days. Haku's probably... gone by now, isn't he. I won't ever get the chance to thank him for what he did."

"It is very unlikely."

There was another long silence. Naruto hugged his legs even tighter. "Sorry. I know we're not supposed to cry," he said.

Itachi's face softened, slightly... almost imperceptibly. "I did."

Naruto lifted his chin from his knees and drew his sleeve across his damp eyes. "You _never_ cry." He frowned. "Or laugh."

"Just because I choose not to express it as freely as you doesn't mean I feel any less deeply," Itachi explained. "I was eight. He was a genin from Iwagakure. Like you, it was not a life I absolutely had to take and I regret it to this day."

"I _hate_ this!" Naruto cried suddenly. "No matter how many times I could say sorry, it would never be enough! I never want to feel this way again!"

"If you choose to stay with this team, you _will_ have to do it again," Itachi said. "Every kunai you threw into every target post was preparing you for this."

"But... I don't think he ever wanted to hurt anybody! He didn't deserve..." Naruto looked up, angry, no longer trying to hide the tears streaming down his face. He got to his feet, moving to leave. "I don't want to hear that 'shinobi are just tools' garbage from _you_. Not right now."

Itachi rose, to place his hand on Naruto's shoulder—gently, an invitation to continue their conversation and not an order. "I never said that."

Naruto paused with his hand on the door and let it drop.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Itachi continued. "Every time your Academy instructors told you that, they were lying through their teeth. Umino Iruka didn't believe it. I don't believe it. The Hokage himself doesn't believe it. It is only one of the many convenient fictions we use to create order in a chaotic world." He pulled a kunai from the holster strapped to his wrist, and held it out, hilt first. "_This_ is a tool. It doesn't think, it doesn't feel. You do. When I kill, I do so not simply because I've been told to, but to prevent even greater suffering coming to my homeland and those people who are dear to me.

"I want you to trust your captains and the orders they give you, but at the same time acknowledge that the world is constantly in motion, and that they may fall prey to misjudgments just like anyone else. The final choice to take a life always lies with you, to do what you feel is right. You will not chose correctly every time, but it is your responsibility as a human being to keep trying."

A few shaky breaths later, Naruto wiped his face and sat down again.

"Do you understand?" Itachi asked.

"I think so. Maybe. I don't know," Naruto murmured. "When I helped Iruka-sensei kill Kidomaru, it wasn't the same. I didn't like it, but I felt like that was the right thing to have done."

"We were matched against missing-nin," Itachi said. "You had no way to know Haku had chosen to disable rather than kill Sasuke, or that he wouldn't have turned on Sakura next. Operating with the information you had available, you made the right choice."

"No. That's what I mean. _I_ didn't make a choice." Naruto put his hand unconsciously to the seal on his belly. "The Kyūbi was trying to get out. I could feel it. When I heard Sakura scream, I was so scared and so angry I couldn't think straight. It wanted blood so much I could almost taste it in my mouth.

"The Kyūbi's chakra blew apart the ice. It was an accident. If the angle had been different, or I'd been standing somewhere else... I could've killed _everyone_. What if it hurts Sasuke? Sakura? You? What if the seal fails? What if I—"

Itachi held up his hand, palm out, and Naruto clamped his lips down on the torrent of impossible questions. He could usually be counted upon to see the best in every situation, the lesson in every setback, the smile behind every stern glance. But there were some things that frightened even Naruto. How could he protect those he loved if his enemy was himself?

"Mito and Kushina likely asked themselves the same questions—it is a trial I would imagine all jinchūriki face," Itachi said, his voice soft and patient. "I wish there were some way for them to speak to you... to share how they overcame their own fears. All _I _can tell you is that I trust you. Now that you know the price of failure, you won't fail."

"How can you be sure?"

"Sasuke may be more talented, and Sakura more intelligent—"

"...hey!"

Itachi smiled faintly. "But you have the strongest will. Even stronger than mine, I suspect, though I hope you're never put to such a test."

The unsteadiness in Naruto's breathing returned, but instead of more tears it erupted into a muted giggle. "Nii-chan?"

"Hmm?"

"You can be such a jerk. And you know what else? When your hair's down, it _still_ totally looks like I've got a big sister."

Itachi let out a long-suffering sigh. "You just cannot let that go, can you."

"Nope. Cause it's still true. And still funny."

A deluge of pained complaints from Sasuke began to rise up the stairs. Itachi cocked his head. "I believe your teammates have finally tired of each others' company."

Naruto retreated to the bathroom to blow his nose and scrub his face clean of the lingering tightness left by the fallen tears. When he pushed open the door Sasuke was scowling as only he could, his cheeks pink and robe closed as tightly as he could tie it. Sakura looked pleased... disturbingly pleased.

Sasuke tossed his things in the corner of the room and looked up at Naruto's red-rimmed eyes. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Fine," Naruto said. "Man, I think there was something in the water. My eyes are all itchy."

"But I don't feel any—"

"So... who's up for dinner?" Naruto asked.

-ooo-

Konoha's massive gates were a welcome sight, and the comfort of their own beds was beckoning. A fierce rainstorm that morning had delayed them even further, and by the time they passed the arch most of the village was already asleep. Including an individual who really _shouldn't _have been_._

Itachi stopped for the penetrating snores echoing from the guardhouse beside the gate, looking intensely displeased. He raised a finger to his lips to quiet the genin and drew a kunai. His target still snoring peacefully on, he slipped silently through the door, not making a sound on the boards. True, the gate guards were barely more than glorified information desk workers, but at the very least they were expected to remain _conscious_ on duty. The actual business of keeping undesirables out of Konoha fell to the hidden ANBU sentinels and the unseen soap-bubble barrier that was far more protection than the stone walls.

The chūnin smacked his lips sleepily, then belatedly registered the cold steel pressed against his jugular.

"Kotetsu-san. This is not acceptable," Itachi said, his tone carrying a very painful promise of punishment.

"Please don't kill me," he whimpered.

"Where is your partner?"

"Izumo's taking a leak. Please don't kill him either!"

As if on cue, the man in question ambled around the corner. He took in the sight of his friend face-down on the reception desk, and the Candidate Hokage pressing a knife against his neck. He snapped his hanging jaw shut, and then said, "Kotesu... what the _fuck_ did you just do!?"

Itachi untangled his fingers from Kotetsu's hair, and replaced the kunai in its holster. Very, very gingerly, Kotetsu lifted his cheek off the desk top.

"As dull as you may find this assignment, your faces are the first a visitor to Konoha will see," Itachi said. "I can arrange for you to be placed permanently on guard duty in the mud pit that is our border with Storm Country, if you'd prefer."

"I don't think he would sir!" Izumo said, his voice tinged with desperation. "It'll never happen again sir!"

"That's certainly reassuring," Itachi said, pushing open the door to the guardhouse and turning smartly in the direction of the Hokage's tower. The genin trailed after him, wincing slightly at the cry of 'you fucking _moron_' and the reverberating crash that immediately followed it. "I need to deliver this report to the Hokage personally," Itachi said, once they'd gone a few blocks into the village. "He may wish to debrief you individually; I will let you know tomorrow morning if that's the case. For now, go get some sleep."

There was a chorus of tired assent from the genin.

"Mom's gonna want to see you," Naruto added. "To make sure you have all your limbs still attached and everything."

"I'll come by as soon as I speak with the Hokage."

-ooo-

Once the door guards admitted him, Itachi followed the sound of gravelly laughter to the Hokage's private living quarters, where he found him finishing a bottle of sake with Mitokado Homura. Though he was nearly seventy, the rooms were unmistakably those of a soldier. His chainmail and helm were hung on a stand in the corner, and an elegant maple rack displayed a few of the hundreds of technique scrolls that had earned him the nickname 'The Professor'. There was very little softness to the chambers at all, save a childish painting hung on that wall that was signed—very prominently—_Sarutobi_ _Konohamaru_.

The Hokage motioned Itachi inside the half-open door. "You're a bit tardy," he said. "You, of all people, didn't run into trouble on a C-Rank, did you?" The Hokage squinted at him, and the sake-enhanced joviality faded. "You _did_."

"I apologize for intruding on you so late," Itachi said, bowing briefly to the two older men. "The mission was completed but severely misclassified. A-Rank at least. Possibly S. I assumed you will would want to be briefed as soon as possible."

"Possibly _S_?" the Hokage repeated. "Your genin...?"

"Will be fine, with a few days of rest," Itachi supplied.

"We were just finishing," Homura explained. He bid his old friend goodnight and motioned Itachi sit down in his place.

Itachi shut the door and locked it before doing so. "Our client had been targeted by three rogue ninja from Kirigakure. _Their_ client was evidently affiliated with the Gato Corporation, who made some kind of deal with the abbot at Lake Tsuwano to divert the poppy harvest in return for a massive donation to their temple. If you wanted an excuse to go after their chairman, you have it. Kosai-san understandably did not want to return to his temple, and requested that we report he suffered a heart attack on the journey back. I can give the cloud poppy to the Nara to process and add to the stock at the hospital pharmacy."

"What a mess," the Hokage said, rubbing his eyes. "Gato was after that old bridge builder, too, who we ended up sending home with a squad of chūnin on their way to one of the ports. He's gotten far too bold. I'll send a police unit to the temple to investigate. I have no doubt he's trying to sink roots into Fire Country in more places than that."

"I agree, but Gato's involvement was not the strangest part of this. Their leader of the Kiri shinobi was woman named Terumï Mei, and they claimed allegiance to Akatsuki."

"I thought that organization died with Madara... and that name sounds very familiar," the Hokage said. "She led one of the stronger factions during the Kiri civil war. Hoshigaki never had her executed?"

"He may have tried, but clearly did not succeed."

"I assume she's dead? Shame," the Hokage said, with a touch of disappointment. "I rather liked her. We sold her a sizable stock of weapons at one point, not that it ended up doing much good."

"Not... exactly," Itachi admitted. "Her place leading that faction was well deserved. She is a canny strategist, and against all odds possesses _two _elemental kekkei genkai, the futton and the yoton. We were evenly matched, although by the end of the fight I held the advantage, and was about to kill her."

"But?"

"At that moment, Naruto began losing control of the Kyūbi after he believed Sasuke to have been killed. One of the other missing-nin, a boy of about fifteen, was severely injured when Naruto released some of the Kyūbi's chakra in retaliation." Itachi leaned back on his heels. "The Kiri shinobi was holding back. He could easily have killed Sasuke and Sakura, yet he took significant pains not to fatally injure them. It was _they _who broke off the fight afterward, claiming keeping Naruto safe was more important than their current mission. I let them go, to repay the debt.

"Whatever Akatsuki has become... I am not entirely sure they are still our enemies."

The Hokage's wry smile had crumbled as Itachi spoke. "That was a serious breach of protocol," he said warningly, tapping out the ashes from his pipe and laying it aside.

"I realize, but I felt—"

"I know how you felt. I probably would have done the same, but your timing couldn't have been worse. The Nanabi disappeared from a maximum-security holding facility in Takigakure four days ago. Ōnoki won't publicly admit to having lost them, but our undercover agents in Iwagakure suspect the Yonbi and the Gobi are gone as well. No one has seen hide nor hair of the Kirigakure jinchūriki or their bijū, either, since Madara died."

"You suspect Akatsuki is responsible?"

"I don't know _what_ to suspect," the Hokage answered. "The strange thing about the situation in Taki was that there were no signs of a struggle in the girl's chambers, and their vessel was extremely unstable. Their jinchūriki was there, and then she wasn't. It was the same in Iwa, from what I could piece together from the intelligence reports. They simply up and _left_."

"What about Suna? Kumo?"

"Kumo's Nibi and Hachibi vessels are both still undertaking missions, as far as I know. Suna's is also evidently still in the village, although I don't know for how much longer—his name came up on the Chūnin Exam candidate rolls."

"He is quite young, is he not?"

"Exactly Naruto's age, as luck would have it." The Hokage laced his fingers before his chin, thinking. "The current vessels of the Nibi and Hachibi are both older and for jinchūriki exceptionally loyal and well-grounded. Kumo took a page from our book after the disaster with the last host of the Hachibi, and took significant pains to integrate them into the ranks. The Raikage even let them take on their own genin teams. But the Ichibi, Gaara... the Kazekage has had no end of trouble with that child. He isn't simply undisciplined, he's _psychotic_."

"And you think he's next," Itachi said. "That is what Naruto has in common with the two from Kumo. He still feels strong ties to his village. Did you warn the Kazekage?"

The old man closed his eyes, his brows pursed. "I tried. Believe me, I tried." His tone was a mingling of pity and contempt. "At this point, I think he would _pay_ Akatsuki to take that boy off his hands... his own son. I never, never cared for that man." He raised his hand to stifle a yawn. "I believe you may have set some sort of record for the number of headaches to come out of a simple protection mission, Itachi-kun."

Bracing his palm against his knee, Itachi rose from the thin cushion. A hint was a hint, and it was very late. "I should be going... I'm sure my mother is worried." He slid open the door, and paused at the threshold. "Has Morino and his team made any progress on identifying our security leak?" he asked over his shoulder.

The Hokage shook his head. "Nothing. The graduation picnic wasn't a clandestine meeting; anyone could have overheard that the teachers were organizing one and where it was to be held. He cleared the families of all the students and Mizuki's fiancee, as well as Anko, who is now furious at me for insulting her loyalty."

"After what she endured at Orochimaru's hands, I wouldn't blame her."

"Morino has been pushing his team, not to mention himself, as hard as he can, but it seems unlikely we'll have results before the Exams." He rose as well, leaving the cups and sake residue for the tower cleaning staff.

"He is peerless at what he does," Itachi said. "If I may be so bold... it seems that someone high in this government is taking pains to see these traitors are not uncovered."

"Impossible," the Hokage said immediately. "The rest of the Council's devotion to Konoha is no less than yours or mine, and as much as they squabble the Clan Heads are united against Orochimaru. They would never aid him in anything. The T & I division simply needs more time."

"Conspiracy or not, the simple fact that they have not been caught could severely compromise our security," Itachi said. "Would it be better to postpone—" He broke into another prolonged fit of coughing, unable to wrestle his disobedient body back under his will.

The Hokage placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. After the spasms finally subsided, he said, "Itachi-kun, I don't want to see you back in this tower tomorrow until you've been checked over by a medic."

"I was injured in the fight against Terumï; I assure you I sound worse than I feel," Itachi said in a cracked and raspy voice. "My team was days overdue, and I'm behind on my portion of the exam preparations. The bids are coming due in a few weeks."

"That's true, I suppose," the Hokage said, a touch doubtfully. "I'll ask your mother to bring you some soup at the committee meeting tomorrow, and convey to her my wishes for your speedy recovery."

"That was low, sir."

"You young people aren't nearly as invincible as you like to believe," he said. "If your Hokage can't convince you to go to the hospital, perhaps your mother can?"

-ooo-

The Uchiha district had been draped in the soft velvet of darkness. The windows were black mirrors, reflecting the lamps and lanterns that burned with the pattern of fans or triple interlocking tomoe. It was strange, but the neighborhood seemed less lonely at night. It was harder to tell that so many of the houses were still empty.

"Ahh... that gate never looked so good," Naruto sighed, as he and Sasuke took the final turn that led to the walls of the Clan Head's mansion.

Sasuke grunted his agreement, too exhausted and out-of-sorts to even string together a coherent sentence. He's pushed and pushed to get back to Konoha before the day drained away, and every half-healed needle wound was throbbing.

One of the cats acquainted with the family (_owned_ was too strong a word) trod silently across the porch to greet them. In typical cat fashion, it paused to sniff once, and when no food was forthcoming continued nonchalantly down to the gravel to see what might be scared out of the foundation of the house. "Hello to you too, furball," Naruto muttered. He pulled open the front door and dropped his pack inside. "We're home!"

"Sasuke? Naruto?" their mother called from the kitchen. After days of trail rations the smell wafting from the back of the house was mouthwatering. "You're four days overdue!"

Mikoto's pace down the hallway was a little too quick. She stopped in the vestibule, considering whether or not embracing her two teenage children would generate more complaints than it was worth.

She decided to go for it, Sasuke first. He yelped and ducked away from the hug, wincing in anticipation for a how much a hearty squeeze would hurt.

His mother let her arms drop back to her sides. "You're wounded!" Mikoto said. "What happened? Where's Itachi?"

"It's just senbon punctures—I'm fine. He's briefing the Hokage and promised he'd head over as soon as he was done," Sasuke said.

"Wounded?" Daishiro said, taking the same path down the hall, after Mikoto. "Who and how bad?" He'd evidently just gotten off shift; he was still in uniform and the hospital ID badge dangled from a clip tucked into his left breast pocket.

"Somebody took care of them already!" Sasuke protested. "I said I'm fine."

"Don't care," Mikoto said crisply. "Upstairs and in bed so I can take a look at you. You're white as a sheet."

"Whatever that great smell is, is there any left?" Naruto asked. "I'm dying of starvation over here."

"Mmm? Should be," he told Naruto. "Come on. And you can fill me in on why you were _four days_ late. We were worried sick about you."

Naruto followed Daishiro to back to the warmth of the kitchen while Mikoto shooed the dead-tired Sasuke up to his room. He settled on the bed with the deliberation of an old man, sighed, and pulled off his shirt.

Mikoto gasped. "These aren't 'just' senbon punctures! You must've taken two dozen... Why didn't Itachi take you directly to the hospital? Put your shirt back on, let's—"

"Mom, really, I don't need it. Our client already patched me up. He was a trained Fire Temple physician. I'm just really tired, that's all."

"If you're sure," Mikoto conceded. She brushed her fingertips across one of the small, puckered scars on Sasuke's shoulder, making him wince. "But rest tomorrow, and if you start feeling feverish there won't be a _word_ of protest about the hospital. Deep-tissue infections are a horrible way to go—believe me. I saw enough of them during the war."

She turned and pulled open his dresser drawer to extract a set of pajamas. "I don't expect a full briefing from you, not right now, but please, tell me what happened."

Sasuke accepted the neatly folded squares of clothing and dropped them on his lap, his back back hunched and his eyes downcast.

"We went up against three shinobi. Missing-nin. The boy I fought, Haku... he was probably upper chūnin, I guess. From Kiri. Had the hyoton. He wasn't much older than me and I didn't have a chance against him." He stopped, fiddling with soft flannel in his fingers. "If it hadn't been for Sakura, I would've been... I don't really remember much after that. They gave me a lot of painkillers.

"They didn't want to kill us. Felt like they owed Nii-san, for taking out Madara. That's what their leader said, anyway. Haku wasn't even _trying_ and I still ended up like... like this."

"Sasuke..." Mikoto whispered tenderly. "There's always going to be someone better. As a shinobi, all you can do is train hard, be careful, and be lucky. It's how we live."

"Yeah," he answered. "I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

Mikoto padded to the door and flicked off the light. "My meetings don't start until the afternoon, so if you're up for it there might be pancakes tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Mom. Night."

"Good night."

Sasuke pulled off what was left of his gear and changed into his nightclothes, tossing the travel-stained things on the floor to deal with tomorrow. He was so exhausted he should've been asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.

But no matter how much he craved sleep, it wouldn't come. He was in just enough pain to make it impossible to drift off, but at the same time the discomfort was mild enough he would feel like a weakling for calling his mother back for more pain medication. He rolled over until he could see the village glowing warm and yellow beneath the night sky. His body wasn't the only problem. His mind was equally restless.

Always. There _was _always someone better. He was always behind. Always second best. Something uncomfortably like hatred was seeping up from the depths of his mind. He tried to wipe it clean from his thoughts and found it foul and tenacious as tar.

Itachi had always been there for him. He could be cold and strange and impossible to understand, but he was _there_. Seeing him gravely hurt or ill shook Sasuke's world until it felt as if he couldn't find his balance again unless he knew Itachi would recover. A world without his elder brother was impossible to comprehend. And still, and yet...

What if Itachi had succumbed to his injuries, back on that windblown mountain? A world without Itachi was a world where he could own his own name. Where he could be simply 'Uchiha Sasuke', not the echo, the shadow, the poor imitation. That's what they called him, without fail. 'Itachi's brother'. Or 'Minitachi', Kakashi's even more idiotic nickname. It wasn't what they called Naruto, who was so unlike Itachi in every way it made such comparisons pointless. Naruto couldn't be said to stand in a shadow. He shone so brightly as _himself_ there was no way he could.

A rush of images cascaded across his mind. He saw himself in the exam arena, then being presented with a flak jacket, then the coat of the Chief of Police, then the Hokage's cap. All the grasping and the clamor of the crowd would be for him and him alone. The world would know his name, and they'd forget...

He fought his way out of the torrent and pressed his face into the pillow, holding his breath until he saw stars. "Oh god... what's _wrong_ with me?" he whispered.

-ooo-

Next morning's breakfast was pleasantly uneventful and drenched in maple syrup. Naruto, being the only uninjured member of Team Seven, resumed his training regimen in one of the public grounds. Mikoto disappeared to one of her endless committee meetings that afternoon, Daishiro leaving with her for another afternoon shift at the hospital.

After a few hours of mindless daytime television, Sasuke dressed and snuck out. A fifteen minute walk wouldn't do any harm. Hands in his pockets, he scuffed his way down the familiar hallways, swimming against the current of Academy students as they dispersed for the day. They all looked so _small, _even the sixth years_. _

He stopped at the second room before the end of the west hall and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe.

"For the last time, I'm not lending you my stapler," Mizuki said crossly.

Sasuke pushed open the door and shut it behind him. "Um, why would I want your stapler?"

He pulled the headphones free of his ears and laid them next to the cassette player and the piles of worksheets. A subtle change rippled across his posture when he realized the identity of his visitor. "Oh... sorry, I thought you were Suzume-sensei. What are you doing here, Sasuke?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute? Or... maybe more than minute."

Mizuki shuffled the pile of papers he was marking into the dog-eared grade book and pushed it aside. "Of course. Pull up a chair. We Academy teachers aren't supposed to keep caring once we graduate you, but we still do, and like Iruka told you—your class was something special."

"Thank you," he said selfconsciously. Mizuki's homeroom class had reverted back to first-years, and the chairs were so small Sasuke felt like the seats would crack under his weight. "It's not really something I can talk about with my clan, so I wasn't sure who..."

"It's no trouble. What's bothering you?"

"Do you... have any older siblings?" Sasuke asked.

The man shook his head. "Only child." He regarded Sasuke thoughtfully for a moment. "This is about Itachi, isn't it."

"Everyone in the clan loves him. I mean... how could they not? He saved all of their lives. He saved my life. That's why I'm so confused. Because he's always taken care of me, and defended me, and..."

"And?"

Sasuke swallowed. "Last night, after we got in, I was exhausted but I just couldn't fall asleep. I kept going over the mission again and again. He took a jyūken strike right to the chest, from one of the missing-nin we fought." His voice dropped to a whisper that barely crossed the space between their faces. "And I realized some little part of me wanted him not to wake up."

Regret flowed in as soon as the words passed his lips. Sharing the feeling made it _real_, and Mizuki's mute pursing of his eyebrows made it worse. Sasuke leaped immediately into justifications. "Do you have any idea what it's like to live like that? Since the day you were born? Never to be seen for you who are, but to measured again and again and again and never quite reach high enough? Yes, he's my jōnin sensei and he does train with me, yes, it's his his job to look after his genin, but he still treats me like a little kid when it really matters. It's like he doesn't want me to... how am I ever supposed to prove myself if he never lets me try? Always overshadow me just by _being alive_?"

"But you still care about him?"

"Of course I do," Sasuke murmured miserably, his eyes on the scuffed tiles. "That's why I feel so horrible."

"I see," Mizuki said. "I suppose I must have been guilty of treating you that way myself. Itachi was a student you remembered... but so were you. I'm not really sure what to tell you, Sasuke, besides that you still have your whole career ahead of you and time to make your mark."

Sasuke didn't really know what he'd been expecting, but he already knew all of that. To surpass Itachi he'd have to be better than the best. Every moment would have to be devoted to training, to study, and he was already far behind. In their younger days Fugaku had driven Itachi mercilessly to succeed—and he had—but there had been a price. Itachi had paid it in countless small sacrifices... was still paying it. He had never stood beside their mother in the kitchen, learning how to pat hot rice into perfect triangles. He had never snuck into the neighbor's yard to fill his pockets with juicy stolen peaches. He had never dragged his friends to the Saturday matinees to watch movies until his eyes crossed. He never laughed. He barely even smiled.

A knock on the door interrupted his introspection, and a woman who looked very much like an older, female version of Asuma let herself in without waiting for an invitation.

"Sarutobi-san?" Mizuki said, looking up.

"I did make an appointment yesterday with the secretary downstairs. About Konohamaru and his," she stopped to sigh, "_third_ detention. The message never made it to you?" She glanced at Sasuke, cocking her head.

"It's all right," Sasuke said. He stood and replaced the miniature chair behind its desk. "I was just leaving."

-ooo-

With half of the team out of commission, Sakura decided to spend her downtime the usual way she spent her downtime—in the library, nestled in a comfortable cushion of books. But this time, she eschewed the small public lending library in the east end of the village and made for the village archives tucked into the cliffs themselves. There was a question that needed answering.

Naruto.

The fight by the lake had been a nightmare—horrifying, and _unreal_. She had felt that crushing presence in the air, seen the chakra like flames pouring out of his body. It had lasted only a few moments, and then he was no longer a monster but Naruto again, an irritating, sweet, careless thirteen-year-old boy who never knew when to keep his mouth shut. If it hadn't been for the scattering of puncture wounds on her calves, she could almost have believed it _was _a dream.

She smiled at the guards as she passed through the seals on the door crafted to break transformations. "Hitting the books again? Are there any left you haven't read?" one asked.

"A few, sir," she murmured, stepping past him.

"Oh, lay off her," his partner chided. "If you'd done half as much studying right out of the Academy, maybe you wouldn't be stuck guarding a library."

The door shut behind Sakura, muffling their bickering. The interior of the library was cool and utilitarian, intended for serious research and study. A large portion was given over to intelligence and personnel records and was of no interest to her, but there were shelves and shelves of technique scrolls an ambitious genin could study at their leisure. She didn't have the clearance to access most of the archive materials, but security wasn't particularly tight around the some of the sections for chūnin and below. A pass wasn't necessary if she could weasel her way past the interior reception desk, and with a clever enough illusion and some luck, she wouldn't need one.

Sakura silently greeted the librarian working general reception and headed straight for the topical card catalog, flipping through it until she found what she was looking for: 'jinchūriki'. Most of the cards were in the section restricted to jōnin with special security clearance, and she'd never be able to sneak in there, but she did find one she could probably get her hands on. She strolled through the stacks until her browsing brought her beside the reception desk for chūnin-level materials. The woman on duty didn't seem to be paying particularly close attention to what was going on around her, opting instead to suck noisily on a huge plastic cup of iced tea and thumb through a magazine. She was still a shinobi, though, so _seeming _not to pay attention wasn't necessarily indicative of anything much. She glanced up—and glanced down again just as quickly—when Sakura set the stack of the books she'd collected down at one of the private desks. There were certain advantages to a reputation as a prissy bookworm who never caused anyone trouble.

After unrolling one of the scrolls from her stack, Sakura cupped her hands in her lap to perform the signs for the genjutsu, looping it around the shinobi behind her. She waited until the other patrons had wandered out of sight, and then ever-so-quietly walked up behind the receptionist and depressed the button that unlocked the doors. The woman yawned and turned a page. Barely daring to breathe, she ducked around the desk and into the stairwell to the second level. Now alone, she used a henge to become the sort of middle-aged, mousy woman with a desk job in the Mission Office that nobody paid any attention to unless they needed a favor. Her new self walked purposefully towards the history section, grabbed a slim volume, and walked purposefully back downstairs again.

She cracked open her prize, hidden behind a few book on beginner genjutsu. The book itself was a collection of completely outdated intelligence reports on Sunagakure that was about as dry as its subject. She scanned through the lists of succession disputes and economic miscellany until she came to the reign of the Sandaime Kazekage, and the word she was looking for hit her between the eyes.

He was renowned for his use of the satetsu, a technique for manipulating iron filings _inspired by the jinchūriki. _The book went on to state, in the author's parched prose, that it had destroyed three apartment complexes, a warehouse, and the lives of thirty-two people before being confined again (in a teapot of all things). The next report was about the susceptibility of the Sunagakure irrigations systems to waterborne toxins. She shut the book.

Something cold began uncoiling in Sakura's belly. Naruto's birthday was October 10th... there had always been a solemn school assembly in the morning, followed afterward by a brief break for their homeroom class to enjoy the treats he and Sasuke would lug to school (which Iruka had grudgingly allowed, although it seemed to make him very uncomfortable for some reason). They were in the same grade, which meant he'd been born in 986. The same day the Kyūbi had attacked Konoha.

All of it made sense now. _Everything_.

Her mind began to race through the possibilities, careening madly down a dozen tracks like the balls of a pachinko machine. What if what happened in Suna could happen here, too? And if it could, why would someone like the Sandaime, who cared so deeply for his village, let a walking weapon attend school and take missions like any other child? Was it too late to apply for a transfer to another team? Did she _want_ to transfer to another team? How could she have hit him all those time when anything could have set him off? Did Sasuke know? Did _Naruto_ even know?

Sakura stacked up the decoy books so the title of the one she'd snuck out couldn't be seen. She got up to go the single bathroom, locked the door behind her, and began hyperventilating into the wall.

When she no longer felt like she was going to pass out, she splashed some water on her face and neck and smoothed down her hair. She calmly placed the books on the appropriate reshelving carts and walked back into the sunshine. Before she could decide, there was someone she needed to talk to first.

-ooo-

Sakura pounded on the door of Itachi's apartment. Like herself and Sasuke, he was supposed to be taking it easy today—his cough had still sounded terrible when they'd gotten in last night. An exploratory jiggling of the knob told her the door was open, but she didn't let herself in on the off chance she'd catch him coming out of the shower or something equally embarrassing.

"Sensei, are you home?" she called. "Can I come in? I really, _really_ need to talk to you."

After a few moments, Itachi pulled the door open, blinking at her inquisitively. He was dressed casually, in a traditional Uchiha high-collared shirt and khaki pants, and was drying his hands on a dishrag. "Is something the matter? You're rather flushed."

"I... I just need to talk to you. About Naruto." She looked down the hall. "In private."

"Ah," he said, moving aside to let her in. "Hyōkuro, would you please excuse us?"

The black cat that had been lounging on the windowsill nodded once, pushed the glass aside with a paw, and made the jump to the tree branch swaying outside the window. Itachi shut it after him. "What exactly has he gotten himself into now?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and let it trickle out. She looked up at him and said, "Naruto is the vessel of the Kyūbi, isn't he."

"You think he is the _what_?" Itachi asked.

His tone was so perfectly light and dismissive that Sakura suddenly felt like an idiot for barging into his home. She opened her mouth to apologize, say it was a mistake... and then shut it again. Itachi was the best liar in Konoha. He'd told her so himself. "Naruto is a jinchūriki," she said instead. "Someone sealed the fox inside him the day he was born."

"Who told you that word?" Itachi asked. The energy of the room had gone dangerously still. "Was it someone in Konoha?

"No," Sakura answered. "During that fight by the lake, I heard the old man from Kiri call him that. My mother told me to stay away from Naruto, but never why. The rest I pieced together on my own, in the military archives. His chakra reserves are off the charts and people treat him like a pariah. Everything just fell into place." She bit her lip. "Does Naruto even know what he is?"

"Come. Sit," Itachi ordered, leading her to his living room. "He knows. Sasuke, and the rest of your former classmates, do not. Speaking about his status to anyone who doesn't already know is treason."

"Oh," she said, in a small voice.

"So what are you going to do, now that you're aware of what's been sealed inside him?" Itachi asked.

Sakura found herself picking at the threads of the couch cushions, until she had a tiny wad of cat fur to roll nervously between her fingers. "I was going to asked to be transferred to another team," she said. Itachi stayed silent, watching her. "Sasuke didn't want me here anyway. Maybe it's for the best. I read what happened in Suna when the jinchūriki loses control. When Naruto shattered the ice, I felt something that was... I'm... I'm scared of it."

"So am I," Itachi confessed. "Like any sane person ought to be. The Kyūbi is the most powerful creature in the world."

"Can it get out?" she whispered.

"Yes. It can."

"Then why would the Hokage put him on a genin team?" Sakura asked, breathless. "Let him go to school? Why not lock him up so he can't hurt anyone?"

"Locking _Naruto_ up would not prevent the Kyūbi from escaping," Itachi explained. "The opposite effect would, in fact, be achieved. In the battle by the lake. Tell me what happened."

"Naruto thought Sasuke was dead. Chakra poured out of him. So much I could _see_ it, like a whirlwind. All the ice around us shattered and then I think he took Haku-san by the throat, and..."

"And?"

Sakura blinked, looking down. "It all went away."

"Yes," Itachi said. "Precisely. It went away. Naruto brought the demon back under control. Do you know how and why?"

She shook her head.

"Naruto is a deeply compassionate person—to a degree most would find almost impossible to imagine. He felt compassion for his enemy and refused to kill him even when nearly consumed by the demon's rage. He forced it back through willpower alone, because he couldn't bear to direct that hatred at anyone, friend or foe."

"Naruto pushed back the Kyūbi?" Sakura asked. "But you just said it was the most powerful creature in the world."

"I did, didn't I. That must mean there are other forces at work in the world beyond raw power."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're trying to tell me."

"Throughout history, most people have had the same reaction you did—to imprison their jinchūriki in order to protect themselves. It is, perhaps, understandable. It would be wise to imprison an unrepentant murderer or a wild beast. A jinchūriki is neither of these things. What the leaders of Konoha have understood for a long time is that it is never physical chains that hold back a bijū; it is the will of their human vessel. If the desire of the jinchūriki to protect their friends, family, and homeland is greater than the demon's hatred, it will not escape. Uchiha Madara released the Kyūbi intentionally thirteen years ago, fatally injuring its previous host in the process. Aside from that incident, none of its previous jinchūriki have completely lost control of the Kyūbi as long as Konohagakure has existed."

Sakura swallowed. "Naruto holds it back for you and me and Sasuke?"

"Ah. He cares his family, and for you, deeply and without reservation. If he felt no love for anyone, what reason would he have to fight against the will of a demon? _That_ is why the Hokage allowed him to attend the Academy and be adopted into the Uchiha clan. So he would have bonds worth fighting for.

"If you still wish to quit or transfer, I won't stop you," Itachi continued. "It is one thing to dislike a teammate, but quite another to actively fear them. But I want you to understand something very clearly. Naruto did not choose to become a jinchūriki. He was selected for an extremely difficult and completely vital mission for the good of Konoha on the day he was born. To be perfectly honest, he needs all the help he can get."

"I... I need to think about this," Sakura said, rising.

"I would imagine," he responded dryly. "The more senior genin teams are given priority at this time of year to fill out the mission quotas for Chūnin Exam qualification. We'll be back on D-Ranks for a while. Take your time."


	8. Chapter 8

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 8 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Team Seven had hoped for some excitement when everyone had been judged sufficiently recovered from their injuries. They hadn't gotten it.<p>

Unlike many of his jōnin peers at this time of year, Itachi made no effort to arrive early at the Mission Office or bribe the staff for top picks when assignments came winging in. Consequently, the next few months brought a steady stream of missions to service training grounds, carry messages, transport equipment orders, or drill with ninken. It wasn't as insulting as babysitting or finding lost cats (career genin built their livelihood working maintenance jobs like these), but it still couldn't qualify as interesting.

Their latest D-Rank had taken them to the building housing the Konoha Barrier Team, and a spark of hope had been kindled that this mission might serve both to take them out of the cold drizzle and maybe, just maybe, aid Konoha in ways that required more skill than shutting their mouths and offering up two pairs of hands.

Those hopes were dashed when it turned out their carefully honed wall-walking skills made them perfectly suited to cleaning the building's gutters.

It had, at least, stopped raining for a spell. Spring was creeping back into the village, in every cautious leaf and flower bud peeking out of the earth.

Sakura tied off the latest garbage bag full of slimy leaves, frowned at it, and then pushed it off the roof with the sole of her sandal.

"Hey, you almost hit me with that!" Naruto hollered up, gesturing with pruners he'd been using to trim a row of shrubs.

"Oh," she said, starting. She knelt at the roof's edge and leaned down. "Really sorry, guess I wasn't paying attention."

His tongue clamped between his teeth, he turned his attention back to the pruning. Unfortunately, his training regimen over the winter hadn't stressed the topiary arts, and, with a sigh, he realized that if he snipped at the poor thing any more it was going to end up with bald patches. He tucked the clippers under his arm, took a running start, and dashed up the bricks.

While Sakura apologizing to him was nice, it was also definitely _weird_. The inexplicably sweet Sakura that had surfaced after their mission to the Storm Country border was less painful to be around, but at the same time it put Naruto on edge. He was starting to understand why her behavior had grated on Sasuke's nerves so much—it was palpably insincere. To be honest, he preferred the touchy, shrieky Sakura to this one, which tiptoed around him as though he were a sleeping tiger. At least the old Sakura had been comfortable in her own skin.

"Sakura-chan?"

"Hmmm?"

"Want some crackers?" Naruto asked. "I was gonna offer to help you up here, but it looks like you got most of the muck bagged up already." He pulled one of the glaringly orange squares from his jacket pocket and crunched down on it happily. "Something eating you? Being scatterbrained on these stupid D-Ranks is usually my job."

"I, em..." she mumbled, removing the heavy work gloves to extract a snack from the package Naruto offered her. She lowered her knees to the shingles, glanced around, and added in a hushed voice: "Since you asked."

"What's up?" Naruto asked, flopping down next to her. "You didn't get in a fight with your dad again, did you? You already told him you're not gonna quit. I know he probably thinks he's doing the right thing angling for a job in the hospital, to keep you safe and all, but you'd make a _really_ crappy nurse."

Sakura's arm twitched, her fingers drawing together into a fist, but almost as soon as she noticed the subconscious gesture she unknotted them. "Well, I _did, _but that's not really it." She took a bite of the cracker, made a face, and tossed it down to the courtyard. "I'm still worried about Sasuke," she whispered.

Naruto's grin melted away. "Yeah. Me too."

"Has he dropped so much as a _hint_ about what's been bothering him for the last few months? He's always so grouchy these days. Way worse than he used to be."

"No, not a freaking thing," Naruto said, annoyed. Sasuke had been his best friend since their very first day of school, when the raven-haired boy had punched him in the nose during taijutsu instruction and he'd been the only person to get up again for more. That first encounter had more or less set the tone for their relationship from there on out. They understood each other so well words weren't often needed, but Naruto didn't even know where to start untangling this problem.

There shouldn't have been any need for mysteries, but he didn't feel right trying to grind the problem out of Sasuke, either–he had his _own_ secrets. Somehow it had just never been the right time to tell either of his teammates about the Kyūbi. The way Sakura would talk to him, confide in him... it was wonderful, and he wanted to squeeze out as much time with her as he could until he could no longer put off the inevitable.

"He doesn't want to _do _stuff with us anymore," Sakura said. "It's all training with the older Uchiha kids... all the time."

"You think you have it bad? I have to live with him," Naruto complained. "I ask to borrow a t-shirt or a brace of shuriken and he bites my head off."

There were two almost simultaneous sighs.

"So what's your dad on your butt for now?" Naruto asked, hastening to change the subject. Talking about Sasuke depressed him.

"Grandkids. Same as usual."

"You should tell him not to worry about it too much," he said, rising and planting his hands on his hips. "Plenty of kunoichi have kids—look at my mom. She made it to jōnin, retired for fourteen years, and went right back to being a ninja when Sasuke got big enough she didn't need to be at home with him anymore. When you're ready, you can retire, and then we can get married and have a whole bunch of cute—"

"Naru_to_!"

Now that was more like it. Driven back by the furious glint in her eyes, he put his heel down solidly on the empty air. There were a few agonizing moments as his face contorted and his arms windmilled, and then he went over.

"Naruto? _Naruto?_" Sakura shrieked, scrambling to the long drop on her hands and knees. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Ahhh... hahaha, you should have seen the look on your face," he said from beneath the overhanging roof. "That was great." He tried pulling himself back over with some undignified wiggling, and discovered he didn't have quite enough leverage on the slick tiles. "Help?"

"No. You are so annoying," Sakura said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Come on, you smiled. I saw you." Naruto let go of the edge of the roof to hang upside-down again. "This is sort of cool. It's like I'm standing on a big lake. You should try—" He frowned at something at the edge of his vision. "Hey jackass!" he yelled in the direction of Sasuke's last known location. "You left the hose on! There's a big puddle next to the hydrangea!"

Sakura let out a strangled yelp when Sasuke appeared without a sound on the roof next to her. He had just mastered the shunshin no jutsu and was taking every excuse to zip around Konoha, warranted or not. "I wasn't _using _the hose," he said, suddenly serious. His voice dropped very low. "And we haven't gotten a hard rain in days. Either those tree roots burst a pipe, or..."

"Or what?" Sakura whispered back.

Sasuke drew a kunai from his holster. "That's what I'm going to find out. Naruto, back me up. Sakura, stay up here and get ready to run for Sensei's help if there's trouble."

"Against a puddle?" Naruto asked. "Are you kidding?"

"Just do it."

Naruto and Sasuke dropped from the roof, weapons in hand. It did feel a bit silly to be approaching what could easily have been a broken pipe with such vigilance, but, at the same time, a shinobi who did not treat the unusual with due respect quickly ended their career... in a wooden box. Information on Konoha's defense barrier would be a succulent prize for another village, and one couldn't be too careful.

"Surrender," he ordered the puddle, "or I'll vaporize you."

It rippled, though there was no wind. Before either of them could blink, the water shot past them in a sinuous stream to land several meters away. A boy's head rose out of it, the symbol of Kirigakure visible beneath the locks of pure white hair. "Damn," he muttered to himself. "I was so close, too."

Following the head came the rest of him, a boy about their age in a violet sweatshirt and camouflage-print pants, with a broadsword strapped to his back. He grinned at them, revealing two rows of triangular, serrated teeth. It was probably supposed to be friendly and disarming, but made Naruto feel like a mackerel right before it became something's lunch.

"So I'm here for the Chūnin Exams, and I, uh, got lost," he said.

"Like hell you 'got lost'," Sasuke said, activating his sharingan. "What's your name and registration number?"

"You're an Uchiha?" he said. "Crap crap... hey, what's that?" he said suddenly, pointing over their shoulders.

"Like I'm going to fall for—" Sasuke began. He broke off at a faint rustle of air, and spun around just in time for his kunai to catch his attacker's dagger. It was bone-pale and barbed to grip the flesh it pierced. The girl herself had a flat face with skin so pallid it was almost white, and beneath the collar of her turtleneck were pinkish splits in her skin that looked suspiciously like gills.

"Idiot," she said. Although her eyes were locked on him, the insult wasn't directed at Sasuke. "You couldn't talk your way out of a cardboard box. If you get us disqualified for this foolishness I _am _going to kill you."

"What? This was your idea in the first place!" he protested. The broadsword was now in his hands, and Naruto was eyeing it warily.

"I was working on the assumption you wouldn't flub it this spectacularly," the girl said.

"Oh shut it, Princess."

"Suigetsu, would you come _on_ already?" said another voice from the rooftops. It was squeaking with nervousness and emanated from a boy in square glasses, who was holding the tip of his sword to Sakura's neck. "We're supposed to go straight to the Hokage's tower. I don't care how much Akaei bet you, we're going to get in _so much trouble_!"

"Hey, Chōjurō," he called up.

"What?"

"Didn't I tell you to quit being such a pussy?"

"Well, what are we supposed to do now?" he whined. "They're both wearing that fan crest, and I don't want to fight two Uchiha!"

Sasuke spun his kunai around his opponent's white dagger with a sudden burst of muscle power. He struck at her again, which she blocked with the blade in her other fist, before leaping clear to stand back-to Suigetsu. She was physically weaker but not afraid of him or his sharingan; from the shape and heft of her weapons, they were clearly intended to be used hand-to-hand. "It's not like you have to," Sasuke commented snidely, not daring to take his eyes off the girl for a moment. "We can just stand here for another few minutes until the whole Interception Team dogpiles you. You're sunk either way."

"It would be really boring for us, though," Naruto said. "Hey Sasuke, if we end up fighting enemy shinobi on this mission too, does that mean we get B-Rank pay? Because that would be _awesome_."

"Nice try," Suigetsu said, raising his sword. "But they don't even know we're here."

Chōjurō yelped as Sakura, who he'd _assumed_ he'd been holding hostage, disappeared with a puff of smoke. "Hey, where'd she... that wasn't a simple bunshin! She was casting a shadow!"

"Oh, she took off a while ago," Naruto said offhandedly. "You were threatening a bunch of empty air where a genjutsu master used to be."

Akaei ground her pointed teeth. "So you were just stalling."

"_Duh_," Naruto said. "She'll be back with Sensei any moment now. The two of us could totally take you down, but I bet T & I is going to want you in good enough shape to answer a few questions."

"You can't interrogate me like a common criminal, I'm the Mizukage's niece!" Akaei said, affronted.

"Enough chattering," Sasuke said. "Are you going to have a go at us or not?"

At that moment, two jōnin arrived from opposite directions to break the stalemate, one in Konoha green and the other in Kiri gray. All three Kiri genin started to shudder and gasp as Itachi enveloped them in a genjutsu, and one by one they dropped their weapons.

"Uchiha Itachi," the other man said, looking him up and down. "Grew up a little since I saw you last." Although he had yet to pull it free, his right hand rested on the handle of a broadsword nearly as tall as he was. The bandages on his face shifted, as if he was smiling.

The Konoha genin were both sort of glad they couldn't see it.

"I suppose I should thank you for locating my students," he said. "Konoha's sights were were so thrilling they ran right off to get a better look. Now let them go."

"Momochi Zabuza-san," Itachi said coolly. "I would like to stress that certain areas of Konoha are off-limits to visiting genin cells. If any members of your team are discovered in one, they would normally be automatically failed... among other penalties. But since I believe this _is_ your first application to the Exams as a team leader, please, consider it only a warning. I would be happy to escort them to the registration area, since it seems you do not have them under control."

The malicious grin hidden under the bandages had disappeared. "I think I can manage," he answered stiffly.

"Please, I insist," Itachi said. He didn't usually have his sharingan activated inside the village walls. It was burning now.

It was Zabuza that finally backed down, after a tense silence. His grip on the hilt of his sword relaxed and his arm dropped to his side. "Wouldn't want to deprive the crowd of a chance to see the Hozuki against the Uchiha, now would I? Pity you didn't make it to the final round when Mangetsu won his promotion. Now that would've been an interesting match."

Sasuke shot a confused glance up at his brother.

"Don't tell me you didn't plan on entering your team?" Zabuza asked, sensing he'd gained a little of the lost ground.

"I don't believe they've decided," Itachi lied.

"We're entering," Sasuke said forcefully.

Itachi released the genjutsu, and the three Kiri genin let out simultaneous sighs of relief. They carefully re-sheathed their weapons, trying not to look like puppies caught with their muzzles around stolen chicken legs. Chōjurō was even more miserable to learn that he'd be facing the Uchiha in the upcoming exams, but his teammates were almost salivating. Suigetsu dropped back slightly as they walked, and made a gesture at Sasuke that was very obviously 'I'll be looking for you', then drew his finger across his neck and grinned.

Sasuke reactivated his sharingan. "Just try it," he mouthed at him.

After the strays had been directed to the foreign genins' check-in desk inside the Hokage's tower, Itachi sent his team back to the Barrier Headquarters to finish cleaning up, with instructions to meet at the Mission Office for their pay. They stashed the tools in the janitor's closet and the bags of rotten leaves by the curb, and then headed to the tower deeply, deeply confused.

While Naruto was joking with the man working the payout desk, Sasuke slunk off to find his elder brother. He cornered Itachi in the hallway, quietly seething.

"You said we weren't eligible to take the exams this time," Sasuke said. "You promised to sign us up 'when we were ready'. But you know what? That Kiri team wasn't any older than we are. I thought we were done with this, but you're still trying to hold me back!"

"Sasuke–" Itachi began, trying to calm the simmering tantrum.

"All those time you refused to train me when I was little? 'Maybe later' doesn't fly anymore. 'Maybe later' is _now_."

"Sasuke..."

"What?" he snapped.

"I said you weren't eligible because you weren't, and I did not want to get your hopes up if the Hokage didn't approve the exemption."

"Wait, the what?" Sasuke asked. The tongue-lashing he'd so lovingly brooded over came to a screeching halt.

Itachi pulled out an envelope from inside his vest and displayed the contents to Sasuke. Inside were three forms, signed and dated today, verifying that Team Seven was judged ready to participate in the Chūnin Exams despite not meeting the minimum mission requirements.

"Oh," Sasuke said in a small voice.

"Originally I was not going to enter you, but both Asuma-sensei and Kurenai-sensei nominated their teams. You three are more prepared than them both, so I... reconsidered my decision. Give the other two to Naruto and Sakura, if you would, with the following warning: no team fresh out of the Academy has been entered from Konoha in six years. This test exists to judge your leadership skills, not raw your raw strength, which is why I was hesitant to recommend you. Our tests are considered the gentlest out of all the major villages, and there are still multiple fatalities. I don't want any of you participating on a whim. Bring them to the Military Archive building by four in the afternoon, east conference room, if you decide to enter." When he finished, Itachi pursed his brows ever-so-slightly, as if waiting for something.

"Sorry," Sasuke muttered to the carpet. "I just sort of assumed..." He frowned again, some of that anger seeping back, and snatched the envelope out of his brother's hands. "How was I supposed to know? Your promises to me don't exactly mean a whole lot."

-ooo-

Konoha's military library was thick with prospective chūnin from all over the continent. Almost all of them were significantly taller, wider, and meaner than Team Seven. Even Sasuke was sorely conscious of how inexperienced they were compared to the other applicants. He led them to the conference room on the third floor, forms in hand. There was a line of genin snaking out the door, and a chūnin proctor accepting the papers and checking off names on a desk just beside it.

Teams Ten and Eight had already beaten them to the exam room. The furnishings were blandly utilitarian—wobbly tables and plexiglass chairs scratched up with years' worth of uninspired graffiti. Most of the other genin looked them over with contempt, a few of the Konoha teams with disbelieving pity. The chairs had all been claimed. Sasuke found his team a spot near the door and wedged himself in it, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Hinata peeled herself off the wall to wave shyly at Naruto, only to be shoved back against it by Suigetsu as he pushed himself off a nearby table.

"Six minutes left. And here I was thinking you all had chickened out," he said, coming to greet them with a swagger.

Quiet conversations in the other corners of the room dried up one by one—there was a new source of entertainment. Suigetsu paid no attention to the dozens of eyes now fixed on the back of his head.

"Hey, watch it," Naruto said in a loud voice.

Shino had moved silently to steady Hinata with a hand at the crook of her elbow. Akamaru had position himself in front of her, tail high, teeth bared, and growling like he wanted to rip a chunk out of Suigetsu's ankle.

He looked down at the dog, completely ignoring Naruto. "In Kirigakure we make soup out of those."

Kiba hastily scooped up his puppy and secured him inside his jacket. "Who the hell do you think you are? Apologize to her," he said, also rising to Hinata's defense much, much too loudly.

With his sharklike teeth on full display, Suigetsu's eyes swung to him. Then he started to laugh.

His teammate Akaei grinned maliciously from her perch on one of the long tables, and inched over to dig the toe of her thigh-high boots into Kiba's lower back. He spun around and bared his canines at her in a growl of annoyance. Several of the male genin on that side of the room scooted closer to examine the view up her skirt as she slowly tucked her foot back down.

"Konoha kunoichi can't speak for themselves?" she asked sarcastically, then looked to Sakura under heavily lidded eyes. "You were awfully quick to run off the other day. They just don't make them like that Slug Princess anymore, do they?"

One of the Suna girls against the wall, her palms braced against a massive steel fan, started to snicker. Almost as one, the other genin cleared a generous circle around the new arrivals to better watch the show.

As Hinata stuttered and Sakura sputtered, Ino calmly wove around the tables until she was directly behind Akaei, who swung her head over her shoulder with an expression of boredom. "And what are _you_ going to do, blondie? You look like you spend more time on your back with boyfriend over there than you do sparring with him."

Shikamaru's cheeks went immediately, painfully pink.

Ino remained unperturbed, looking the Kiri kunoichi up and down with a critical eye. Her palms braced against the table, she leaned forward slightly and began to speak in a low voice that nevertheless seemed to carry though the entire room. "You know, just from one girl to another, I can recommend a good salon while you're here, although even their best stylist is going to have a tough time with that skin tone."

It was brief, but her opponent faltered for a moment, her arrogance fractured. Akaei grabbed Ino by the collar and drew their faces together. "Who cares about my skin tone when I can rip out your intestines and strangle you with them?" she snarled.

"And he's not my boyfriend," Ino said, cool as ever and the smirk still fixed on her face. "I want to keep my options open. So many to choose from, you know?"

"Oh, _sorry_. So it's actually that fatass wearing his underpants on his head?"

Ino blinked, and the smirk became twice as wide. "Say that again?" she asked sweetly. "I couldn't quite hear you."

Akaei released her and leaned back to look Chōji in the eye. "So _is_ she a good fuck, fatass?"

"Three, two, one..." Shikamaru muttered under his breath.

It took the combined efforts of Naruto, Sasuke, and Shikamaru to pull Chōji off her (Shino was busy restraining Kiba, who had tried to get in on the action himself), by which time she was sporting a bloodied nose and an expression so poisonous the air almost curdled. Chōjūrō tried to hand her a square of cloth to clean up and received an elbow to the gut for his concern.

All eyes swiveled toward the door as it opened. A man in the uniform of the Military Police stepped inside and stopped to survey the damage. Naruto was about to say hello when Sasuke hastily clapped his hand over his brother's mouth. "Pretend you don't know him," Sasuke said in an undertone. "We don't need any more attention than we've gotten already."

He snorted, gesturing at the tangle of overturned chairs. "Couldn't wait to get started, huh? Whoever's responsible, get this cleaned up."

Nobody moved.

"Seriously?" he asked in disbelief, pushing his way to the front. Half a dozen bored-looking chūnin strolled in after him. "Uchiha Yuji, your exam proctor. Hi. Now, I get paid for this gig either way, and I'm out of here right at five-thirty, so if you want to stand around and _fail_ until then that's fine with me."

Naruto grinned at Sasuke as he edged forward to start putting the classroom back in order, along with a few of the other individuals involved in the brief fight. Yuji dropped his briefcase on the podium in the front of the room and began shuffling through the papers within; he seemed to be having a great deal of trouble finding what he was looking for. From the crowd, someone cleared their throat impatiently. "The guy they had slated to do this is still tied up in an internal investigation, okay? Cut me some slack. I've never run an exam before." He resumed rooting around in the case, to the growing annoyance of every genin in the room. It was now ten past.

Finally, he stuck his fingers into the pocket of his pants and his eyes lit up with success. He unfolded the scrap of paper. "Okay, so the first test is a simple mission simulation. The assistant proctors that came in with me have hidden your prizes inside the tunnels behind the Hokage Monument."

He gestured to the chūnin in front. The man reached into his jacket and produced a thin rectangle of wood about the size of his palm. An abstract design had been burned into the surface.

"Your objective is to get ahold of one of these tags and present it to your proctor, who'll be waiting at the building with the red-tiled roof on the top of the mountain, by five-fifteen sharp. Follow the signs to get to the right door. It's a test of your _individual _skills, so we're splitting you up into three groups. Don't bother going past the doors marked with a red 'X'; they're either storage or another section's testing area. If you open one we will know; don't think you're being cute trying to sneak in. Shoving is fine, but if my assistants find bodies in there you're all disqualified.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, sweeping his should-length hair back from his face. "Due to the high volume of applicants this year, we can only accept some of the students who return a tag, so it's in your best interest to hurry up. Quotas for each village are..." He looked back at the rumpled paper. "Konoha, twenty-one; Suna, nine; Kumo, twelve; Kiri, nine; Iwa, fifteen; Ame, Kusa, Taki, and Oto all get three. Count off within your teams. Ones here, twos here, and threes here," he said, partitioning the room with a wave of his free hand. He pulled out a chair next to the podium, then fished a newspaper from his briefcase and sat down heavily, planting his ankles on the tabletop. He unfolded it with a snap and settled in to read.

When the genin began whispering to themselves rather than follow the sloppily delivered orders, Yuji peered over the paper for a moment. "Well go on! If you all forgot how to count to three I'm skipping the Academy grades and demoting you back to preschool. The assistant proctors will take you to the assigned area." The newspaper snapped up again.

From somewhere in the crowd, one of the genin spat with tremendous force at the headline. The acidic glob hissed through the layers of newsprint, leaving a dripping hole. Yuji lowered the paper, looking disgusted. "Oh you are _hilarious_. Last thing I guess I forgot to mention... if you feel like pissing off any of the cops while you're here, remember that about half of them are Uchiha. That means I know it was you, from Takigakure, in the gray and black striped pants. Assaulting an officer of the law is punishable by five years in prison, but because I'm such a nice guy I'll just flunk you and your teammates. If you two feel like maiming him a little bit, I don't blame you, but try to hold it in until you get out of Konoha. Less paperwork for my department to do. Thanks."

Team Seven split themselves up and followed obediently after their assigned proctor. Lagging behind the rest of the genin, Naruto spotted a distinctive spike of black hair and wriggled his way through the crowd as they made their way outside.

"I _thought_ this was supposed to be a paper test," Shikamaru grumbled, as he noticed Naruto approaching. "Guess the proctor didn't want to grade them. Don't blame him, I guess."

"I was kind of surprised to see you here," Naruto admitted. "The Chūnin Exams are crazy hard."

"My mom would've killed me if I didn't apply," Shikamaru said, as if this explained everything.

"No, I mean people die in these. Like... _there's-an-actual-funeral-to-attend _die."

"Yeah. I know," Shikamaru said. He began blinking furiously as their group reemerged into the sunshine. He looked up at the metal stairs zig-zagging their way up the sheer mountainside and heaved a tremendous sigh.

Naruto started to giggle under his breath. "So you'd take 'maybe dying' over getting yelled at by your mom? Man, you're—"

"Yeah. I _know_."

Group One had the section closest to the library doors. Their proctor stopped and turned to face them before the entrance to their testing ground. She was dressed in a floor-length black coat and heavy veils, but the mystique of her outfit was ruined by the fact that she was sucking noisily on a cough drop and kept reaching under the layers of cloth to dab at her nose with a tissue.

"Alright, quiet down," she said in a raspy voice. The odor of menthol was so intense a cloud of it had followed her outside. "There are plenty of tags for all of you."

She drew a key from the chain at her waist and inserted it into the lock. It didn't turn. She jiggled it a little, pulled it out of the lock, squinted at it, and tried again. When that didn't work, she put the key back in her coat pocket and sighed in consternation. "Kotetsu, all you had to do was oil the stupid locks," she whispered under her breath. "Top and bottom. That was _it_."

Still muttering, she reached under her coat for a kunai. She jammed the tip into the keyhole, holding it in place with her hip, and went through a series of handsigns. The kunai started to shake, but nothing else happened.

"Hey, so do we get extra time for this?" one of the genin piped up after about five minutes of fruitless effort.

"No," she snapped over her shoulder.

"Do you want one of us to run to the hardware store for extra credit?" another one asked snidely.

"_No_."

Seconds later, there came a horrific screeching noise from the door. It swung obediently open, and the kunai fell to the ground missing a third of its length, as if the tip had melted off. She swept it aside with her foot. "Alright. Go. And remember, try not to kill each other." Her veil shuddered as she chuckled to herself. "That's what the next stage is for."

Shikamaru bid Naruto a terse goodbye and disappeared down one of the branching tunnels. It was an unspoken promise to stay out of each other's way. The Nara heir was too lethargic to have kept up with him during most of their childhood, but he could usually have been depended upon for a brilliant plan whenever Naruto had the urge to slither out of class. That counted for a lot in Naruto's book.

Taking off in the opposite direction, Naruto began scanning every crack and crevice for one of the squares of wood. The scrap of lumber had been a delicate pink hue and possessed the same scent as the wooden chests in which his mother stored the family's winter clothes. Following his nose, Naruto darted around the warren of tunnels until he caught the same sweetness overcoming the odor of soil and mildew. Wedged behind one of the microphones for the emergency broadcast system was a sliver of pale wood. A senbon jammed into the gap was just long enough to work it free.

But this test wasn't only about finding a tag. It was _also_ about making sure your competition didn't find out you found one. And as Naruto was now realizing, he'd sort of flubbed that part. With an elder brother named 'Uchiha Itachi', he had gotten quite good at sniffing out the telltale signs of genjutsu. He tried to release the one that he suspected was currently wrapped around his brain and discovered he couldn't. He swore under his breath.

The other genin was probably trying to trap him in a dead end to force a confrontation. Now that he their objective, he had the tool he needed to weasel around it whether he could break the genjutsu concealing his opponent or now. He sprinted down the hallway and darted into the doorway of a storage unit that faced the village below.

"Poor choice. That one's a dead end," said the nameless voice. He risked a glance around the corner, and was given the general impression of purple and silver and really dorky glasses, although he didn't plan on sticking around to get a better look. At least he'd called it right.

He hastily unbuckled his belt and pouches and clamped his teeth down on the leather. He_'_d grown a bit since he last tried this, playing ninja with the neighborhood kids, but hopefully not by too much. Using a pulse of chakra in his palms to stick himself to the frame, he contorted his shoulders until they cleared the gap of the narrow window. He had to exhale what felt like every molecule of air in his lungs to pull his torso through, but he did it.

The chainmail he wore under the jacket pinched painfully as he kicked himself free, but he _was_ free. Feeling immensely proud of himself, Naruto slung the gear belt over his should and ducked his head back just long enough to shout, "Suck it, four eyes!"

Back in the crisp open air, he took off leaping up the uneven ledges nature had carved into the mountainside. It was a stroke of luck he'd come out on the side that had good footholds. He paused for a moment on top of one of the Sandaime's tufts of hair to put his belt pouches back on. Running into a fight he'd have trouble winning would delay him more than a detour, so instead he took the long way around and crept up to the brick building from the back. He popped his head over the sills of four windows until he found the room where his proctor was waiting. He pressed his face against the glass and knocked lightly.

She paused from noisily blowing her nose to open the window and let him in.

"Uchiha Naruto presenting one tag!" he said breathlessly, as he clambered over the sill.

She sat back down in the desk chair and swiveled around to face him. "How did you get around the ambushes the other genin set around the exit? You're not even scratched."

"You never said we had to come out the tunnel."

She didn't smile.

"That wasn't against the rules! You never said!"

"No, but..."

"I did... make it, didn't I?" Naruto asked apprehensively.

A faint shake of her head sent Naruto's hopes crashing to the floor. Groaning, he pushed himself off the sill, turned right, and started deliberately banging his head against the wall.

"Geez, kid, stop, _stop_! You're going to give yourself a concussion," the proctor said.

"Did my team make it in at least? Do you know?" Naruto asked, turning to look at her. "Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura?"

The woman spun back around to consult the gently glowing scroll in front of her. The ink was writhing like a pile of worms as the lines rearranged themselves into new configurations on the grid. "Yeah. Don't tell _anyone_ I told you, but they just squeaked by—seventeenth and nineteenth slots."

"Okay," Naruto said, trying valiantly to squelch his disappointment beneath that scrap of good news. "I guess I'll just be going."

"Naruto-kun," she called softly to his back. "Look, I'm sorry about the door. Blame that spiky-haired moron that usually works the gatehouse. Coming in through the window was the smartest damn solution from a rookie I've seen so far, and if he hadn't flubbed the preparation you would've made it. I'll tell you what. I logged that the last tag came in but I haven't entered the name yet—it was just a minute ago. People were really looking forward to seeing Team Itachi in the finals. I can switch you."

"With... who?" Naruto asked hesitantly.

"An Inuzuka," she said. "Inuzuka Kiba."

Naruto swallowed hard. He was of the opinion that Kiba was a second-rate shinobi, that his breath smelled, and most of all that he ought to shut his stupid face about becoming Hokage. Naruto wanted to hear the arena crowd roaring his name so much he could almost feel the sound buzzing in his bones. But he couldn't do that to Kiba. Even if he did go on to enter the tournament this year, see all three of them pass on their first try just like the Sannin had done, the victory would have been rotted hollow.

Naruto let his head fall heavily against the wall for one last time. "Thanks, but no thanks," he said, and let his voice drop very low. "You seriously owe me, Dogfood Breath."

She nodded once, then pressed her finger to her lips with a meaningful glance. "Go wait in the reception area. No talking. You're dismissed."

-ooo-

Sakura had stopped rolling her eyes ten minutes ago, because it was starting to make her brows ache. Their bandannaed proctor _still _hadn't been able to get the fusebox at the entrance figured out, and the entire stretch of rough hallway was pitch black, beyond the rectangles of sunlight admitted by the open door and thick windows at the base of the mountain. He wouldn't let anyone past the second door until he did, despite complaints from multiple genin that they'd rather take their chances in the dark. Nobody was openly searching for a tag in the anteroom itself, fearful they'd be found out and get themselves dogpiled as soon as the test started in earnest.

There was a sudden snap and a buzz that echoed down the rough-hewn hallway, and what bulbs hadn't burnt out or been smashed by vandals came to life.

"Told you I'd get it!" Izumo announced triumphantly. "Now remember, nothing lethal or all of you flunk. Have fun!"

Sakura took the passageways cautiously, trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible. She was at the greatest disadvantage during a test like this, without anyone to shield her. At least she'd picked up a few techniques that would be of some help in avoiding fights in the first place. They were nothing like what an Uchiha could do, but she could use her illusions to give her competitor's attention a little nudge away, if they weren't extraordinarily perceptive, or a sensor, or in possession of a really good sense of smell, and finally if her footsteps were very, very quiet.

It was a lot of 'ifs'. Worse than that, she had no idea where to find a tag. Aimless wandering had turned up nothing, and the minutes were ticking by. She checked her watch. Too many of them had already given her the slip.

She peered around a corner. Nervously twisting the ends of her chakra wire in her fingers, she scuttled to the next room. She'd taken to storing it in two coils around her wrists, hidden in a pair of specially made gloves. There was a gap in the rock near the far corner, probably a relic of its construction decades ago. She put her eye to the fissure, on a hunch.

There, wedged into the rock, were two broken pieces of a tag. Someone must have already tried and failed to get it out. She sent the wire tip into the gap and gently tugged out one half and then the other. The examiner hadn't explicitly said the tag had to be in one piece, and she was fairly certain she could plead her way into a passing grade if it became necessary. She tucked the two halves under her hitai-ate and folded the cloth around them. Perfect. They were practically invisible.

Sakura continued slinking her way through the interior of the mountain, as quickly as she dared. Her abilities as a sensor were at best rudimentary; as of yet, she remained unable to sense intention, strength, or identity, but having an idea of where the nearest warm bodies were was helpful in itself. The final stretch was a wide, dim tunnel and an exposed ladder that lead into the basement of the squatest building atop the mountain. Pausing in the hall, her eyes darting about and her breath caught and held silent, she stretched out her senses. There were several genin very nearby. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell if they were in passageways that connected with hers or not.

Just in case, she hooked the four nearest minds but left their perception alone for the time being—she'd never managed more than two targets before, and wasn't all that confident an illusion would hold if she actually had to trip the trap.

She sprinted forward before any of them could round the corner. Her hand closed around the rung of the ladder and she began heaving herself up. She was halfway through a momentous sigh of relief when the sudden sting of a rope and weight around her ankle told her she was no longer alone in the passage. She clung to the ladder, trying to untangle her leg from the strong fiber of the rope dart, but succeeded only in splitting her lip on the bar when her attacker gave a hard tug and pulled her to the ground.

The girl was substantially taller than Sakura, her black hair caught up in sensible odango buns. "Sorry, but I'll be taking that," she said, her eyes flickering to the wooden tag that had slipped out from under Sakura's hitai-ate when she fell.

Sakura dove for it at the same time she released the wire to slice through the yielding hemp of the rope. The rope went limp as Sakura clipped it neatly at her ankle bones.

"Hey!" the other girl exclaimed. She shook the now-useless length of rope from her fingers; with a puff of smoke two jitte appeared in her fists instead. The blunt weapons were often used by the law enforcement to subdue suspects without resorting to lethal force. A skilled fighter could still do plenty of damage with them, especially to an opponents' hands, using the small hook jutting from the pommel. From the easy way they rested in her fists, this possibility seemed high.

Sakura thrust the two halves of the tag into the concealed pocket sewn into the closure of her dress. Spitting blood and scrambling to avoid the next charge, she threw herself to her feet. The other girl was faster and stronger—not by too much, but enough to make the difference between victory and defeat. Her bare arms were all long, lean muscle, and the heavy iron rods struck chips from the wall as they whipped by Sakura's unarmored limbs.

Dancing around the ladder, she dodged a few more strikes far too closely for comfort. Her luck ran dry a few moments later, and she hissed in pain as the tip of the rod struck her in the forearm.

"You done yet?" the girl asked. "I could keep this up all day, seriously."

Sakura needed something to take her down, and she needed it fast. The five senses of sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell were not the only things a genjutsu could target. There were also the body's internal senses, at the bridge where genjutsu and medical ninjutsu met. Sakura took advantage of the brief respite to zero in on the simple mechanism by which the body measured oxygen concentration in the blood, and with the most delicate nudge of chakra spun her attacker's off its axis.

The tautness in her arms went loose, and with a baffled expression on her face she started to pant. Her breathing quickly grew rapid and frantic, as if the gulping breaths were doing nothing to ease the sensation of suffocation. Her weapons clattered to the stone floor as she backed against the wall, her arms wrapped around her burning chest. "What did you _do_?" she gasped. "Who are you?"

Drawing herself up and wiping away the blood coursing down her chin, Sakura smirked and said, "Just some rookie," before turning away to heave herself up the ladder. Ignoring the fierce ache between her left wrist and elbow took effort, but she managed to shut the hatch behind her before the groan forced itself out between her teeth. At least it didn't feel broken.

Izumo was chewing on the end of his brush when she threw open the office door. "You look like you had it rough," he said.

"Yeah, but I got it!" Sakura announced proudly. If the words were a little slurred by the split in her lip, who cared? She could heal herself after she knew she'd passed. She turned around, stuck her hand into the fold of her qipao, and presented the pieces of wood with a flourish. "It's Haruno. Haruno Sakura."

He didn't reach out to take it, looking at the blood-smeared tag with distaste. From the pocket of his gray uniform he produced a packet of tissues and handed her a few to clean up her face. "Just put it on the desk. You can go to the waiting area. Follow the signs."

"Yes, sir."

"Haruno," he whispered to himself, just as Sakura paused with her hand on the doorframe.

"Haruno..." he said again, more loudly. "Your family's not a ninja clan, is it?"

"No?" she said, turning on her heels. "Why do you ask?"

"Class full of Clan Heads' kids and you were the only civilian to make genin. Nothing to sneeze at, you know. They get everything handed to 'em. The best training, the best gear, the best tutors... and you still made it. Onto the next Hokage's team, no less." His voice dropped, to barely the right side of audible. "Please, please don't tell anyone this, but I think it was just a fluke that Akimichi heir beat you. It was only a minute and a half. I was just about to note it when you came in. The name slot's still blank."

"I was too late? Are you saying you'll...?"

He nodded once, slowly. "This is just between you and me, got it?"

Akimichi Chōji had been bullied and left out of everything. Sakura had been guilty of some of it herself, when she'd been younger. This time, he'd come in last yet again, but he'd _passed_, which put him ahead of a good two-thirds of the other genin. Some of them had dozens of missions and years of experience on him, too. Snatching that victory away from him was just...

Something he would never have done to her. Ever.

Say what you would about his self-control when there was barbecue to be had, but he was the sweetest boy Sakura had ever met. No matter how many nasty names he'd been called, Sakura couldn't remember a single time he'd ever launched one back at his tormentors.

"No. No thanks," she whispered, trying not to cry. "Chōji deserves this. I just... there's always next time."

-ooo-

Sasuke was starting to seriously consider whether beating his head repeatedly against a rock would be a good way to pass the time. It might drown out the incessant, tuneless humming their proctor felt necessary to add on to their march to their section of the mountain. Why they couldn't have set the time differently for Group Three Sasuke couldn't begin to guess, considering how much farther they had to walk. They'd already wasted almost ten minutes.

If he remembered correctly from childhood games of hide-and-seek, this passage terminated in a door mostly concealed within the trees at the top of the mountain. Sasuke was already near the tail-end of the pack; he was one of the shortest genin taking the test and their proctor had set a brisk walking pace.

It was a simple matter to fall even further behind until he lost the group entirely. Taking the steel stairs bolted to the rock face would be the safest option. Unfortunately, said stairs were all the way at the opposite end of the mountain. This area of the Hokage Monument wasn't as sheer as the cliff face on which he'd learned wall-walking, but it was also several times as high. If his concentration slipped, _he _would slip, and that would most likely be the end of his shinobi career if not his life.

But it didn't matter how dangerous the path was—he still had to win. If he was the first genin to the top, he'd be able to set up an ambush to steal the first tag found and undoubtedly be among the first out of everyone to pass, even given his group's time penalty.

Sasuke's eyes rose up the plane of umber rock. Itachi hadn't passed the test on his first try, but then again, he'd been _nine_. When he tried again, he'd won the tournament. If Sasuke could manage to pass now, it would mean something. He wasn't sure what, or to who, but it would be _something._

He took a dozen steps back to give himself a running start and began his ascent.

Two-thirds of the way up, he stopped on a ledge to give himself time to catch his breath. Gravity did odd things when you tried to run up a vertical surface, and muscles that normally had nothing to do with running were burning.

The mountain had become, so, so, _so _much taller now that he was on it. Sasuke glanced over his shoulder at the dizzying drop to the grass far below and immediately regretted it. He'd never been troubled by heights before, but something about standing on a lip of stone just a touch too small to solidly plant your feet tended to bring that out in a person.

It didn't matter that his brain felt like it had been fried; he walked up, he walked down, or he stood here until his calves cramped and he lost his balance until he found it again in a messy splatter a hundred meters down. Sasuke swallowed. Sustaining a steady output of chakra for this long was Sakura's strength, not his.

He readjusted his grip on the meager toeholds of the cliff. Not every shinobi had what it took to make chūnin. Not _half,_ in fact. Some didn't have the ambition, and plodded along as career genin forever. They didn't take risks. They did the bare minimum of what they were asked and came home without caring in the slightest about leaving their mark on the world. Then there was the other extreme, the perilous counterweight on which Sasuke found himself now. The threw everything they had into achieving fame and glory. Their careers _were_ generally glorious. And short. Very short.

There was a voice in his head. It had the glacial iciness of his mother's when she was really, truly angry at him, all quiet and slow and chilling. It was saying: _Don't be a child. You want to be a chūnin? You're not off to a very good start—a chūnin knows how to properly assess risk, which is certainly not what you are doing now. The people who love you already know who you are. Risk your life if you must, but not to surpass your brother. Do it for something that _matters_._

With utmost care, Sasuke shifted his weight so he could lift his other foot to the cliff and anchor it there. He told the voice to shut up.

...because he suspected it was right.

He resumed his ascent, sweating in the early spring chill and too terrified of having his control slip to wipe away the beads that snuck past his headband. He was a dozen steps below the safety of the plateau. Half a dozen. Three. Two...

And the bombardment of chakra loosened the packed dirt under his sandal. Time slowed as he felt his foot slide. Unbidden, his sharingan came to life, stretching out that fraction of a second long enough for him to grab a wire-wrapped kunai and toss it skyward. The blade lodged in the crook of a branch, the wire bit into his hand as it went taut, and he swung against the cliff to anchor himself there, gasping. He pulled himself over the edge and let the line go. The grit digging into his palms felt unaccountably wonderful.

When the adrenaline drumming up and down his limbs had quieted, he pushed himself to his feet.

Settling into an ambush was a new kind of nerve-wracking. He was the best in his year, but the Chūnin Exams were insanely selective. At the last test, there had been roughly a hundred applicants, and passes were awarded in the single digits. Most of his peers were in their late teens or early twenties. They had years of experience on him... a decade... even more.

But it didn't matter, because he had to be the best. Sasuke settled into his cover to wait.

The first genin to peek his nose out of the hole had the bamboo canes of six umbrellas fanned out across his back. Sasuke's fingers traced across the lines of senbon packed in his thigh pouches. He selected one, and drew the envenomed needle while he waited for his target to present him with a better angle. The young man was wary, his eyes darting about the forest and his right hand resting lightly on the handle of one of his odd weapons. The moment he turned his back, Sasuke let fly.

His target flinched, but then started to laugh. "You missed," he said, plucking the needle out. "And you ruined that leather choker I liked, too." He pulled two of the umbrellas from their holsters and threw them into the air. They began to spin under their own power, humming with chakra.

Signs flashed in unison; Sasuke was faster. He sprayed the gyokakyu upward to engulf the two umbrellas–oiled paper and a determined Uchiha were rarely a good mix. The material ignited, briefly outlining a skeleton of bamboo ribs before those too were claimed by the fire. Whatever his opponent been planning to do had hinged on the seal-inscribed paper that was now snowing down on them in clumps of ash. Sasuke launched himself from the mound of earth as his attacker looked on in shock, and _this_ time his senbon connected with flesh.

The gray-clad genin pulled it out of his thigh with a snarl. From the cane of one of his remaining umbrellas he drew a concealed double-bladed tanto and moved to engage Sasuke hand-to-hand. Smirking, Sasuke spun two kunai into his fists. His opponent was either ruiniously overconfident or didn't recognize the fan sigil or the tomoe spinning around his pupils.

Blocking his strikes was an almost leisurely way to pass the time as Sasuke counted down the seconds before his poison took effect. He'd learned his lesson from the disastrous battle that had almost killed Shikamaru. The new formulation was more painful for the victim, slightly less effective at immobilizing them, but _also_ far less likely to be lethal in large doses.

It began with a tingling in the contact area, progressing to a burning sensation that spread gradually across the affected tissue as the nerves branching through it went haywire. The Ame genin had begun to feel its effects; he was favoring his punctured leg and trying not to show it. The spreading muscle spasms soon became obvious even without a sharingan. Unable to grasp his tantō any longer, it fell out of his twisted fingers.

Sasuke took a step back, grinning.

"You kill me and we all fail, brat," he said through gritted teeth as he fell to the ground.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Sasuke asked. "What I smeared on that senbon isn't going to kill you, it's just going to leave you shuddering in agony for the next hour or two. Where's your tag?"

The other genin didn't answer. This was probably because he could no longer make proper use of his tongue. Sasuke began methodically digging through pouches and pockets until he found what he was looking for inside the raincoat.

He took two handfuls of the slick fabric and pulled the older boy into the cover of some bushes, arranging him carefully on his side. "Now you won't choke on your own saliva and die. Aren't I considerate?" he whispered.

Sasuke left him and pushed open the nearest door of the circular building. It was cool and dim within the brick walls. He fished out the sheet of wood and presented it to the proctor clenched between his first two fingers.

He dipped his brush into the inkwell beside an unfurled scroll. "Name?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Uchiha Sasuke."

He paused from tapping the excess ink from his brush and looked up, his head cocked.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sasuke asked.

"This is _strictly_ between the two of us, but... you didn't make it."

"How? I must have been the first to..."

The proctor leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "_I_ didn't make up the courses up. Tell you what. You were one spot away from making it in. I'll swap you. Your brother's going to be Hokage before this time next spring, and you probably could've made chūnin last year. Damn shame if you didn't make it past the first round."

"Do you know whose place I'd be taking?"

He consulted the scroll in front of him. "A Rock Lee?"

Sasuke frowned. The man was right. He could have made chūnin a lot earlier if his mother and brother had allowed him to graduate ahead of his age group. He'd heard about Lee, though. The gossip had been all over the school last year.

Rock Lee was a cripple. He wasn't simply born without an aptitude for ninjutsu; he was physically incapable of performing them. Until he came along, demonstrating at least one E-Rank technique had been a requirement for graduation, but he hadn't even been able to manage that. But the Hokage had stepped in personally to pass him anyway. No one had been able to figure out why. Without the ability to use ninjutsu, it seemed to Sasuke life as a ninja at all would be impossible, never mind how he could manage as a squad captain. Taking Lee out of the running now might even be merciful, to spare him the humiliation of an arena fight. What sort of teacher would coach their student into that sort of obviously futile effort?

"Fine. Do it," Sasuke said.

The proctor dipped his brush in the well of ink again and was about to touch it to the page, but just before he could the cold inner voice returned. This time all it said was: _Fight with your comrades if you want, but stab one in the back and you're no son of mine_.

"Wait..." Sasuke began. His hand seemed to have risen of its own accord.

"Second thoughts? The rest of your team made it."

He let his arm drop, disappointment shuddering through his jaw. "Leave my time as it was," he murmured.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"All right. It was just an offer. Remember to keep this quiet, hmmm?"

-ooo-

The waiting area was an empty warehouse staffed by a few medics and proctors. The large room was divided by stained canvas curtains to keep the team members from greeting each other. While the medical personnel set to patching up the more serious injuries, any attempts at conversation were quickly stifled by the sour-faced chūnin guards. They didn't have to wait long; the curtains rolled back with a squealing of gears and Yuji pushed open the door right on the dot.

"Forty-two of you passed," he said. "And most of the _rest_ of you are self-serving little shits who'd betray their comrades for pocket change!" he snarled. The indolence in his tone was gone. "Oh yes, you know who you are. Everyone who accepted the assistant proctors' offer fails, as do the rest of their teams."

"Didn't the search mean anything?" a Konoha genin in his late teens piped up angrily. "I found my tag in less than—"

"Are you stupid? That question was the test," Yuji snapped. "Never, _ever_ underestimate the power of a few simple words. You're a ninja whether you have a kunai in your fist or not, and some of the greatest dangers you face might not be on the battlefield.

"When you're chūnin, you're going to have access to classified documents, codes, jutsu, and a whole lot else foreign shinobi will want to pull out of you. Do we cooperate with each other? Sometimes. Do we show each other mercy on the battlefield? Occasionally. But no one not of your village will ever do you a favor without expecting something in return, leaving aside the people whose _entire mission objective_ is to extract intelligence through trickery or bribes. Your short-sighted greed could put your teammates, your family, or your whole village in mortal danger. People are going to promise you a hell of a lot of things, and if you don't think long and hard about their motives and the consequences, nobody wants you wearing a flak jacket. It's a lesson we Uchiha learned the hard way.

"Everyone who betrayed your comrades, raise your hands. You're done. Go home. I suggest the teammates of these individuals have a good, long talk with them on the way back, because you could easily be next."

No one raised their hands. Glances were darting around the room at lightning speed.

"So you're cowards, too?" Yuji asked, with a derisive snort. He reached into his pocket for a long sheet of paper and unfolded it. "Abe Yūka, Konohagakure. Arai Kumiko, Kumogakure. Asashi Shōen, Iwagakure..." he began to intone. Hands began to inch their way up, and he closed his mouth. Hanging her head, the girl that was evidently Abe Yūka shuffled out of the room, followed shortly after by her furious teammates. Yuji waited for the classroom to empty of those that had failed. "All of you who passed will report to Training Ground Forty-Four at eight tomorrow morning for the second stage of the test. You're dismissed."

Naruto sidled over to his uncle as he packed up the few papers into his briefcase. "_I_ would," he said, a hint sullen.

"Would what?"

"Do somebody a favor just because."

Yuji snapped the catches closed and swung it off the table. "Most people aren't you, Naruto. And really, be careful about that if you're serious about this promotion. No good deed goes unpunished, especially in our line of work. Now get out of here and rest up for tomorrow. The mission sim stage is where the bodies start piling up, and _none_ of them are going to be yours or Sasuke's, got it?"

"Yessir!" Naruto said, mock-saluting as Yuji turned to leave. "And that's a stupid saying," he muttered to his uncle's back.

Team Seven waited for the crowd to thin before trying to force their way to the exit. Teams Eight and Ten had passed as well. Naruto caught Shikamaru and then Chōji's eyes and gave them a thumbs-up. They wouldn't have had a problem.

Ino swept by Sakura, her lip curled. "You're a mess, Forehead. What's Sasuke-kun going to think?"

"That I got in a fight and _won_?" she answered icily.

Over Ino's shoulder, Sakura's gaze caught the Kiri team as they were sauntering towards the doors. Ino realized her attention had been diverted from their half-hearted bickering and was about to peer around when Akaei grabbed her cascade of blond hair and jerked her head backward.

"If I see you in the next stage, I'm going to break your fucking nose and probably a whole lot else… we'll see what the boys think of you then."

"Let her go," Shikamaru said.

"The proctors've all left. You going to make me?" Akaei asked.

Shikamaru pursed his brows and mostly succeeded in stifling a yawn. The girl's fingers unclenched from Ino's hair and she took an unwilling step back. "Just did," he said, now mirroring her pose. "I don't like getting in fights with girls, so can we not make a big deal out of this?"

"How on earth did _you_ pass?" Ino asked, pulling out her hair tie to remake the ponytail while her attacker continued fuming, still pinned to the tile by Shikamaru's shadow. A few more seconds to let the request sink in, and he released her.

"Zabuza-sensei warned us we were probably going to see this kind of touchy-feely crap on the first stage," Suigetsu explained as he wandered by. "We didn't fall for it. Most of us didn't," he added glancing with contempt at Chōjurō.

"So I didn't stab one of my friends in the back!" he protested. "Is that really so bad!"

"Kiri shinobi don't have friends," Suigetsu said.

Chōjurō groaned miserably, his shoulders sagging. "I was thinking about defecting while I was here, but then Sensei would have been honor-bound to kill me." He pulled off his glasses and massaged the red dents left on the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to find something to eat. Alone. Not that either of you care."

"I know it's the opposite of what we were supposed to learn today, but I kind of want to buy that guy a bowl of noodles or something," Chōji whispered to Naruto.

"Screw the test, he needs it," Naruto whispered back.

Ino sniffed and continued on her way, her teammates trailing behind. Sasuke just rolled his eyes. He gestured with his head and began strolling toward the narrow doors. Once outside, when the press of examinees had relaxed, Team Seven realized one by one that they were being watched.

"What does _she_ want?" Sakura whispered, bristling. "And why's she staring at your..."

"Who's 'she'?" Sasuke asked. "Ino already left."

Her meaning became clear when Sasuke peered over his shoulder, flushing pink when he realized the Konoha kunoichi in question had skipped over the usual coy glances and shy smiles and cut straight to staring with unabashed interest at his ass. Her eyes snapped up, although she didn't look particularly apologetic about being caught. "Hey! Hey you with the pink hair!" she called.

Sakura squared her shoulders and strode to meet her. "If you're looking for payback..." she asked, suspicious.

"What? No!" she said, laughing. "I'm not angry, I'm impressed! You got me good and that's not easy to do. I was going to ask if you wanted to grab something to eat now that they're letting us out of here—not many kunoichi are that serious about making it past genin. And I'm Tenten, by the way."

"Sakura," she offered, still on guard.

Tenten squinted at Sakura's chin. "Sorry about that. Did the medics patch it over already? Doesn't look like it'll scar."

"This?" Sakura asked, bringing her fingers to the jagged red line bisecting her lip. "No, I took care of it myself, while we were waiting for the results."

"You can use medical ninjutsu? Already? _Wow. _I couldn't even get past the first practical lesson." Tenten cleared her throat, her eyes eyes dropping to the grass. "My fish kind of... exploded."

Her green-clad teammate had none-too-subtly sidled over while they were talking, and was gazing at Sakura with an expression of yearning. "Gai-sensei has great respect for those who strive to become medic-nin. It is truly a difficult discipline to master."

"Um, thanks?" she said, flattered the two older genin seemed so impressed with her. "Wait... you're not trying to scope out intelligence on me, are you?"

Tenten giggled, waving Sakura's concern away. "I'm not that sneaky. It's just been a while since I got to hang out with another girl... or... really anyone, besides my team. The other girls in my Academy class were such ditzes. They spent all their time squealing about how pretty Neji's hair was instead of training." She flipped her thumb over her shoulder at the final member of her team, standing apart from the rest of the group. His coffee-dark hair was indeed shimmering quite prettily in the dappled sunlight, the sort of long, thick, perfectly lustrous tresses a certain sort of woman would've knifed her best friend to possess. "Most of 'em dropped out. Yeah, I think he's good-looking and all–'cause I mean who _doesn't_–but if I ever start acting that dumb over a boy I hope somebody gives me a good whack on the head."

"I will be certain to note that request," Lee said earnestly. "Although I hope love's enchanting blossom opens for you someday, our former classmates were unpleasant company."

Sakura giggled selfconsciously, and let her grin fall onto her shoes when Tenten looked away. "Oh, yes. Totally know what you guys mean."

Sasuke crossed his arms over his chest and snorted derisively. "I'll bet you do," he said under his breath.

"Well, come on," Tenten said, taking Sakura by her uninjured arm. "I'd love to hear about that S-Rank mission of yours, if you're not too bored of telling the story by now. Lee, Neji, would you mind if I caught up with you later?"

"I... suppose that would be all right," Lee sighed.

Neji only gave her an infinitesimal shrug.

"You're set for dinner too, right?" Sakura asked her teammates politely.

"Yeah, we're good," Naruto said. "Ka-chan promised to make us pizza from scratch if we passed the first test, which is, like, the tastiest thing ever. Even Grouchy Grouchface was looking forward to it."

"Shut _up,_" Sasuke said testily, turning down the slope and pulling Naruto after him. "You sound like you're three."

The last of Lee's team, who until now hadn't contributed a word, fixed his blank white eyes firmly on Naruto and the Uchiha crest on the back of his jacket. "You," he said, pacing back to look down his nose at Naruto. "You're a little too blond for an Uchiha, aren't you? What's your name?"

"Naruto," he said, starting to bristle as he turned back. "So you noticed I don't look anything like my family? You're a freaking genius and _so freaking what? _It doesn't matter that I was adopted into the clan. I can still be as good as they are if I keep working at it." He took three heavy steps forward, until they were nearly eye to eye. "Who do you think you are, anyway?"

"Hyūga Neji," he said. "And that is a childish outlook on life."

"What is your _problem_? I don't even know you!"

"No. You wouldn't. But I know _you_. I know you had everything handed to you–a nobody that can now enjoy the privileges of being a Clan Head's son through no merit of his own."

Sasuke had turned around as well, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He put his hand on Naruto's shoulderblade, drawing himself in front of Neji. "He's part of my family because we want him to be. If you have that much of an issue with the private life of a complete stranger, maybe you and I should talk it over in the practice grounds."

"Sasuke, stay out of this," Naruto said. "I don't need you to fight this one for me. If he wants me to prove I'm an Uchiha, I'll prove it!"

Tenten brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Not _again_." She glanced at Sakura, and then said under her breath, "And they say women are too emotional to make good squad leaders." She dropped her hand from her face and took a deep breath. "You didn't listen the first dozen times I said this, but I'm going to try again: you have legit problems, I get it… but I don't think they're with Hinata or Hanabi and they _definitely_ aren't with this Naruto kid! Plus the signup forms were really specific about examinees' conduct while—"

"_My delightful students!" _a voice thundered, as the speaker crested the steep path down to the village proper. "From your shining, youthful faces I see that your fine characters have been judged more than worthy by the first exam's proctor. Such an event calls for celebration before the trials of the next stage... in this case, I believe it ought to be with delicious char-grilled cuts of beef!"

"We have indeed triumphed over the first test!" Lee shouted, pumping his fist into the air. "It is thanks to your words of wisdom, Gai-sensei!"

"Lee... the most difficult tests are yet to come," he cautioned. "You must not grow complacent!"

A pair of hands closed around her shoulders, and Sakura found herself muscled out of her place beside Tenten and deposited in front of Gai. Her new friend was intensely polite, intensely strong, and completely oblivious to the horror creeping across her face. "Sakura-san is a year behind us and still bested Tenten, although, of course, she was still victorious over the trial in the end," Lee said.

"Sorry, Sensei," Tenten said sheepishly. "I guess I didn't put enough work into countering genjutsu. I don't suppose you—"

"Genjutsu, eh? As to be expected from a student of our next Hokage. Tenten, you need only to have asked," her teacher replied, placing two hands heavily on her shoulders. "Although the Uchiha traditions are fearsome, their illusions are far from unbeatable. I will show you everything I know. Neji, I will instruct you as well. The byakugan affords you some protection but is not immune to such trickery. Now, I hope you have decided where you would like to celebrate this small but crucial victory. That is what you were so heatedly discussing when I arrived, was it not?"

Neji studied into his teacher's brilliant, somehow accusatory smile and for a moment looked ashamed. "Yes, Sensei," he muttered sullenly.

"Beautiful!" Gai said. "Because, if you had been planning to attack another participant outside of the sanctioned exercises, I would have been forced to report you to the exam board and have my precious pupils disqualified! Did you not read..." with a flourish he produced a sheet of paper from somewhere on his person, holding it out for the Hyuuga to inspect, "...the fine print?"

"Right," Naruto agreed. "See you later, Sakura-chan." He and Sasuke began walking briskly back to the village, and although he did pause to make a rude gesture at Neji when his teacher's back was turned.

"I've already got plans," Tenten cut in quickly, disengaging Sakura from Lee's incredibly firm grip. "Count me in on the next one?"

"Are you expected at home, Neji?" Lee asked. "Surely Hyūga-sama would allow you the time to dine with your teammates today?"

Neji glanced at Lee and Gai, then in the direction of the Hyūga compound, looking like someone who'd just been given the choice of which eye he'd prefer to have poked out. "I'm not busy," he sighed finally.

"Excellent!" Lee said. "It will be a race to Yakiniku Q! Loser must complete ten laps around Konoha!"

"Backwards!" Gai added.

"And pay for dinner, of course. On your mark, get set—" Lee wound up to go, Gai unabashedly following. "Go!"

Neji turned back to Tenten, waving the dust cloud away from his face. "Traitor," he muttered to her, crossing his arms over his chest. "How could you leave me alone with those two?"

"Um, Tenten-san, if this is a problem, I can just head home myse–" Sakura began, gesturing in the direction of her apartment.

Tenten ignored it. "Oh stop being so dramatic," she scolded. "You love barbecue—once you're there you always have a good time. I mean, relatively speaking. Sakura-chan and I are going to go eat icecream and talk about boys and clothes and lip gloss. You'd be miserable. Now shoo."

"I will not forget this."

"_Shoo!_"

With as much dignity as he could muster, Neji unlaced his arms and began jogging reluctantly after the retreating contestants.

"Are you sure Neji-san is okay with this?" Sakura asked hesitantly, as they began strolling in the direction of the path cut to the stairs bolted to the mountainside. She peered over the rail. The two specks of green were already almost at the base. "He seemed really upset with you for ditching him."

"It's fine. The thing you have to understand about Neji is that he has only three settings that I've ever discovered: crabby, mopey, and somebody's-about-to-die pissed," Tenten explained. "With all the crap his clan's put him through I can sort of understand why, but I need a break from it now and then. Can we go to that icecream shop by the Hyūga compound? I haven't been there in ages."

Sakura was about to suggest a slightly less fattening establishment, but bit it back. If the stories Naruto had wheedled out of his neighbors were anything to go by, dieting was going to be the least of her worries for the next five days. "Sure," she answered instead.

"_Yes_!" Tenten said, starting off down the jangling iron stairs. "Whenever I ask Lee he has to turn it into some kind of stupid eating content and gives himself brain freeze, and Neji absolutely refuses to set foot in the place at all."

"Why?" Sakura asked, following in her wake. "Did he find a roach in his cup or something?"

"No, nothing like that," Tenten assured her. "He claims he doesn't like it, which is a _complete _lie. I used to see him in there all the time when we were little. Thinks liking sweets once you grow up makes you a pansy or something."

"Really?" Sakura asked, bemused. "Sasuke doesn't like them much, but Naruto does, and Itachi-sensei's sweet tooth is even worse than the both of them together. He practically keeps that dango stand by Field Three in business all by himself."

Tenten stopped on one of the narrow platforms between the sections of the staircase and turned back to Sakura. "Isn't Itachi-sensei... you know?" she asked. There was a wink and a nudge in her voice that Sakura couldn't puzzle out at all.

"Isn't he _what_?" eyeing the other girl suspiciously. "He can come off really cold compared to someone like Gai-sensei, but he's still a great teacher."

"No, no, no, of course he is. I just heard he and Kakashi-san—you know, that jōnin with the poofy silver hair who never takes off his mask?—are... really good 'friends'."

"Well, ye—no_,_" Sakura said suddenly, as the implications hit her square in the face. The mental images that followed shortly afterward were simultaneously titillating and horrifying, and were promptly filed away in some dark corner of her mind for further investigation at a later date. "He's not really interested in _anybody_ as far as I can tell. Between teaching us and preparing to take over for the Sandaime, he has a hard time finding enough minutes in the day to breathe, let alone date. Who told you all this?"

"Some girl in the Mission Office," Tenten replied evasively, and abruptly changed the topic of conversation to the best style of sword finishing, a topic on which she was eminently knowledgeable. They left the mountain behind and turned onto the river promenade, following the meandering path to a hole-in-the wall shop in the imposing shadow of the great stone clan compound.

"Here we are!" Tenten announced, pushing open the door. The bells tied on the bar jingled gaily. The establishment had only two small tables; their products were perfectly suited to being eaten while strolling down the path outside the door.

From behind the counter a small voice called: "Obaaaaa-chan! Customers!"

The little girl ran up to the to the till and hopped up on the stool behind it. She had the pale Hyūga eyes framed by long lashes, and a floral-patterned kerchief tied tightly around her forehead. "What's your favorite?" she asked loudly, over the buzzing and grumbling of the ancient freezer case. "If it's something in the back I can get it for you, but I'm not big enough to scoop out of the front row."

"Which is better? The cherry chocolate chip or the mint?" Sakura asked her.

"Cherry," the girl said with authority. "Ice cream with crunchy pieces is the best."

Her grandmother emerged from the kitchen at the back, drying her hands on her apron. Like the girl, the old woman had her forehead carefully concealed behind folds of cloth. It wasn't uncommon for members of even the great ninja clans to keep up small businesses on the side; running missions was hard on aging bodies and retirement from active duty often came at forty or even earlier.

The kind-looking old woman smiled at Tenten. "Still no Neji-kun?" she murmured. "I swear up and down I didn't change any of the recipes..."

"His loss," Tenten told her. "You still make the best in the village. One scoop of chocolate hazelnut in a cone, please."

"Cherry chocolate chip in a cup for me," Sakura said.

They took their purchases to the river, dangling their legs over the red-painted wood of the bridge. It was almost too cold for icecream. The sky had gone overcast with a promise of rain that night. Summer couldn't come fast enough.

"What's it like, being on a team with a prodigy like Sasuke?" Tenten asked her finally, once they'd both had generous mouthfuls of their purchases. "Everybody's talking about him. They say he could be as great as Itachi-sensei one day."

"I thought you wanted to hear about my mission. You _are _looking for intelligence on us," Sakura said accusingly, replacing her spoon in the small mound of ice cream. As Tenten had claimed, it _was_ the best in the village, rich on the tongue and packed with delicately blushing local cherries.

"I swear it's not business, it's personal! Sasuke-kun is really cute."

The puffs of cloud overhead suddenly grew more menacing.

"Whoa, wait, wait, wait," Tenten said quickly. "If he's taken, he's taken! I just think he's got a cute butt, I'm not in love with him or anything."

"Good," Sakura said, and took a savage bite of out of her snack. That had been an uncomfortable bit of déjà vu. Almost every girl in her class had fought over him tooth and nail, none more fiercely than herself and Ino. She was profoundly relieved to discover Tenten's approach was far more practical.

"You really like him, don't you," Tenten observed quietly. "I mean _really_ like him."

Sakura put her cup aside and crossed her arms over the lower rail. Pursuing Sasuke had been her singular goal for almost three years—maybe out of force of habit more than anything else. After all, she'd thrown away her first real friendship to go after him. She wasn't the type to forge such connections easily, and although she usually tried very, very hard to deny it, part of her still missed Ino's companionship.

Sasuke had a perfect heart-shaped face, perfect tousled hair, perfect ivory skin. Perfect throwing arm, perfect taijutsu forms, perfect test scores. But Uchiha Sasuke wasn't perfect. She'd seen him slip up more than once. Fail. Cry. Bleed. The longer she was with him, more and more chips and cracks had been revealed. How did that saying go? You like people for their merits, but _love_ them for their...

"Uh... yeah," Sakura said hastily, realizing she'd let the silence stretch on too long. "I guess I do. What about you and Neji?" she asked, to change the subject. "Just a guess, but it seems like he got the same treatment from the girls in your grade."

"That he did," Tenten said, smiling. "I got anonymous death threats when the team placements were announced. No joke. But... we're just friends. I'd be the first to say he's gorgeous, and great to have on your side in a fight, but he's not good boyfriend material—full of himself, no sense of humor, and my future in-laws would be... the less said about them the better. I'd want somebody who _smiles_, to start."

"Lee?"

"I think he might've gotten his heart set on you," Tenten said with a wink. "Did you see how he was looking at you back there? Besides, I'm not sure I could keep up with a guy with that much stamina when we finally got to the really fun parts. It'd probably be a good time at first, but... geez. I'd end up so sore."

"You're... not talking about training, are you," Sakura whispered, blushing. She slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to contain the giggles, but they escaped to make her shoulders shake and undignified snort burst out from between her fingers. "You're _horrible."_

"My sisters are eighteen and twenty-one," Tenten explained. "I pick up things like that whether I want to or not."

"Are they kunoichi too?" Sakura asked.

Tenten shook her head. "Nope. Just me—family's civilian. They own a convenience store. Working the cash register 'til I got married and then popping out a few babies didn't sound that appealing, so here I am."

"Mine are civilian, too. Cloth merchants." Sakura took a contemplative bite of her sweet. "Babies _are_ really cute, though. I think I might want one someday."

"Hey, nobody's saying you can't, but it's hard out there for a kunoichi who doesn't want to start a family. People look at you like you're either crazy or diseased when you say so–men don't have to deal with that. And all the S-Rank slots in the public bingo books? Guys, guys, guys, _more_ guys, some missing-nin from Kiri named Terumï Mei, and Tsunade. I checked.

"Konoha hasn't seen any kunoichi like her since she graduated from the Academy what... forty-some years ago? I wanted to be the one to fill her shoes when I grew up, but it turns out I royally stink at medical ninjutsu." She looked down at her chest and sighed. "I'm not too hopeful about filling her... um, cups, either."

"You and me both," Sakura said, sour.

"Honestly, I've always wondered how she can fight with those things bouncing around. My aunt's got a lot up there, and she gets backaches just from keeping up the house, so I mean... geez."

Sakura thought about this for a moment. A nice figure had been her goal since she'd become aware of the concept, but she had to concede that a _really_ nice figure did present some logistical problems for kunoichi in combat roles.

"Oh right, I meant to ask... what did you do to me back in the tunnel?" Tenten asked. "At first I thought it was poison, but as soon as you left I could breathe again just fine, so it _must_ have been some sort of genjutsu... I've just never heard of someone using it like that before. I thought it was mostly to freak people out, and that low-level stuff didn't really seem super useful."

"Genjutsu and medical ninjutsu aren't all that different, or I guess there's sort of a shading of one into the other, because they're both about using your chakra to manipulate the human body," Sakura said. "Making people _see_ things is pretty easy if you've got the knack, but that's not the only part of their brains you can mess with. Itachi-sensei taught me how to use the other senses, the ones you don't think about. What I did was trick your peripheral chemoreceptors into sensing an abnormally low concentration of oxygen in your arterial blood."

Tenten looked at her blankly. "You made my what do what to my what?"

"I made your brain think you were suffocating. That's one of the easiest, and you can learn to fight through it without a lot of trouble. I've been trying to master the one that screws up your sense of balance, which is a lot harder. I couldn't even stand up when Itachi-sensei had me under it, much less fight. It was awful, and that was when I knew it was just a demonstration and he wasn't going to actually hurt me. You can convince your enemies that their internal organs are on fire, that they've gone deaf and blind, that their arms and legs aren't attached anymore–all sorts of horrible things. Even without a sharingan. Takes just about perfect chakra control _and_ tons of anatomical knowledge, though, which is why not many people use genjutsu that way."

"Scary," Tenten whispered.

"I wouldn't use the worst ones in the sparring ring any more than you'd use your most powerful attack on me," she assured Tenten. She dipped her spoon back into the cup, which let out a disappointing wet 'plink' as the plastic struck waxed paper. "That went fast."

"Told you. Best in the village," Tenten said. She pulled up her dangling feet and stood, licking a few stray, sticky drips from the back of her hand. Her cone had disappeared some time ago. "Let's do this again? But less ice cream and more sparring. After the exams are over, I want to see what else you've got."

"Sure," Sakura agreed. "Let's."


	9. Chapter 9

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 9 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Naruto and Sasuke made their way down to the assigned training ground early, their pockets heavy with supply scrolls. The Chūnin Exams almost always followed the same general pattern: first, a test of character; second, a test of field survival; third, a test of pure combat prowess. While it was impossible to prepare for specific situations, no team packing for the second stage as though embarking on a week-long C-Rank would regret it.<p>

The other genin from their year, as well as Gai's team, had wandered over into the same clump near a rocky outcropping, seeking protection in numbers like a school of fish. Lee was dancing attendance on Sakura, to her considerable annoyance.

"Looks like you've got some competition there, loverboy," Sasuke said as they strolled over to meet her.

"Pfft. No way. Look at her face—he hasn't got a chance. If I have a problem with anyone, it's the Hyūga guy."

"Neji," Sasuke supplied. "Did some asking around… he was the top rookie last year. You're lucky his problem with you never got physical."

"How do you know I wouldn't win?" Naruto asked, huffy. "I can beat _this_ year's top rookie."

"Occasionally," Sasuke conceded.

"More than occasionally!"

"The last time I was coming down with a killer chest cold and does not count."

"Yeah, and all the other times?" Naruto grumbled.

Sakura leapt up to great them as they approached the imposing trees. The chain-link fence was inadequate to contain the cloud of foreboding drifted out from beneath the canopy of leaves. Through the steel chain could be seen what looked awfully like a praying mantis the size of a cat as it picked its way through the undergrowth.

"What a _weirdo_," she muttered, thumbing over her shoulder in the direction of Lee.

"Hey, listen up!" a woman called from above their heads. She was perched improbably on the fence surround the grounds, and was wearing a beige trench coat and not very much else.

When the assembled genin failed to heed the command, she rolled her eyes, sucked in a deep breath and bellowed, "_I said listen up!_"

The crowd quieted.

"Mitarashi Anko, tokubetsu jōnin and proctor of the second stage of the Chūnin exams. My job is to flunk as many of you as possible. I'm required by law to warn all of you crybabies that you might be horribly injured and/or die during this test. I have release forms. Sign them or stay genin your whole lives."

Anko leapt off the fencing, landing in a crouch in front of the single Kusa team. She stalked around its single female member and leaned over her shoulder. "Well, aren't you just the cutest little thing?" she purred.

The girl's face turned almost as red as her hair, and she nervously adjusted the thick glasses perched on her nose. She went completely still when Anko pulled something long and black out from the inside of her sleeve and traced it down the side of her neck. Her two male teammates, who up until then had simply looked annoyed, suddenly went on alert.

"Oh... it's just a pen," she giggled nervously. "You scared me for a second there, Mitarashi-san."

"I know fourteen different ways to kill a man with a ballpoint pen," Anko said, licking her lips. Somehow her soft voice had carried the length and breadth of the waiting area. She _did_ eventually let the terrified girl go, leaving a little spot of black ink directly over her jugular vein, and produced another handful of pens from inside her heavy coat.

The girl swallowed convulsively. "Should I just pass these around, then?"

"Do."

Anko waited until the assembled genin had finished reading over the release forms, then backed up a few steps and placed her hands on her hips. "I'm only going to explain this once," she said. "Training Ground Forty-Four, also known as the Forest of Death," she paused to let that sink in, "is about three hundred square kilometers of large predators, poisonous plants, and leeches that can drain your entire blood volume in less than ten minutes. Your objective is to make it to the tower in the center in one-hundred and twenty hours, or five days." She fished under her coat again, and extracted two scrolls. "To enter, each team must have in their possession these two scrolls—Heaven and Earth. To pass, the entire team must enter the tower together, each member on their own two feet. One scroll will be given to each team as they drop off their release forms." She smiled wickedly. "This _does_ mean that half the teams will automatically fail. And everyone around you has just become your enemy.

"Each team gets a gate. We're opening them in ten minutes. There is only one rule—once in, you're not getting out for the full five days, _and_ there will be no contact with anyone beyond the fence. Violations earn you the big Fail stamp, so no crying to mommy if you're hungry or cold or had your leg bitten off by a crocodile. Beyond that, anything goes. Questions?"

Chōji raised his hand. "Did that," he gulped, "actually happen to somebody?"

"Yeah," she said. "Followed by the rest of him. Don't know if they ever found anything in the piles of crocodile shit worth sending home." She pursed her brows at Chōji's stricken expression and then clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Seriously, kid, if you want this promotion, you'd better grow a pair," and with that final piece of advice disappeared in a gust of wind and smoke.

Konoha's rookies started glancing at each other uneasily, shifting closer to their respective teammates. Hinata was fidgeting furiously, biting her lip against something she couldn't quite bring herself to say to Naruto, before Sasuke pulled him and Sakura away. He found a boulder to crouch behind, out of earshot of the other teams. "According to what my mother told us, Konoha teams will usually go out of their way not to fatally injure each other in these things. That's doubly true for us—making an enemy out of the future Godaime by killing one of his brothers is monumentally stupid. That _doesn't_ apply to everyone from the other villages—especially Suigetsu's team."

"And that redhead from Suna is the Gaara Itachi-sensei told me we're absolutely supposed to be leaving one-hundred percent completely alone?" Naruto asked. "The one who's has been glaring at everyone like a psycho since we got here?"

"How did he even pass the first stage?" Sakura asked. "He looks… how should I put this… completely insane."

"He threatened to kill the assistant proctor if he didn't pass and meant it," Sasuke supplied. "Yuji-ojisan was _mad_ about that. The guy didn't 'fess up until the notices about who was advancing to the next stage had already been sent to the other villages."

Sakura briefly glanced up at Gaara to confirm something. "Gaara can't possibly be taller than me, and he's got skinny little toothpick arms, and he _scared a chūnin so badly he disobeyed a direct order_?"

"Mm-hm," Sasuke confirmed. "Suigetsu's team can still make the list. Young as they are, they're not going to be easy targets. I did a little research while you were stuffing your face with cake last night, Naruto. He and the girl who looks like she took a frying pan to the face were tied at the top of their class."

"So?" Naruto said.

"Do you have any idea what the Kirigakure graduation exam is like?" Sasuke asked. "Here, most of the class flunks out and goes on to civilian jobs or secondary school. In Kiri, they tally the scores by _body count_."

"You mean they... their own _classmates?" _Sakura whispered, horrified.

"Yeah," Sasuke said. "And this is the 'civilized' version. They had to change the rules after their sensei slaughtered the entire graduating class when he was nine and a half."

"Gaa-_aah_!" Naruto grunted, shuddering. "What is wrong with these people?"

"Loads. Now come on, we have to turn these forms in."

Sasuke led his team to the covered checkpoint staffed by two chūnin, one of whom marked off their consent forms. The other handed an Earth scroll to Sasuke.

"Give it to me," Naruto said. "I know exactly where to hide it." With his back turned to the desk, he unzipped his pants, fiddled with his coat, and turned around, empty-handed.

"_Ew_!" Sakura whispered.

"If you were an enemy shinobi, would you want to stick your hand down my pants?" Naruto asked. "Unless somebody pats me down they won't be able to see it under my jacket. We can just lie and say ours was stolen if somebody jumps us."

"That's disgusting. Clever, but disgusting," Sasuke admitted, before pulling aside the curtain. The three genin selected a door as far as possible from the teams that presented the most credible threats.

Sakura took the opportunity to loop a genjutsu around the Konoha teams who had taken the doors on their left and right. "I've got both groups on either side of us," Sakura whispered to Sasuke. "Let me know which way we'll be running, and I can send illusions going the other way to cover us."

Sasuke pressed his face against the links. The trees were as old as the village itself and the canopy especially thick. Past the light contributed by the meadow, the interior of the forest was lit as if by twilight. It was a sort of menagerie displaying the most deadly of Fire Country's native flora and fauna, and there were rumors its keepers made a point of not feeding the giant pythons around this time of year.

"Two o'clock. Through the branches," he said.

"Got it."

After a few nerve-wracking minutes, the gates flew open in unison. Precisely as they passed the threshold, Sakura erased their presence and sent an illusory copy heading off at four o'clock, behind the cover of some brambles. They sped off in silence, following Sasuke's lead, until they reached a creek that fed into the larger river bisecting the grounds. Farther down, a tiger padded to the water and dipped its head in. It sniffed the air and looked at them through the cover of leaves, then went back to drinking, deciding the trio of small humans were neither foes nor food.

"Almost everyone will be trying to stake out a campsite near a water source," Sasuke explained quietly. He pulled a storage scroll out of the pouch on his thigh and unrolled it to expose the first three compartments. A drop of blood on each revealed three radio headsets. "We lay our traps along the banks. To make it worth the effort, we'll need bait." He looked at Naruto.

"Why me?" he complained, trying to affix the microphone ribbon around his neck.

"Because I don't have the chakra reserves to waste on an hour-long henge, and Sakura's taijutsu still sucks. Transform yourself into her and try to look extra pathetic."

"Oh thanks, Sasuke" she muttered sarcastically. "I'm working on it, okay?"

There was a puff of smoke, and a second Sakura appeared in Naruto's place. She drew herself deeper into the leaves while the boys dropped to the forest floor. Within half an hour both had laid an invisible network of triplines and motion-sensitive tags around the river, Sakura playing lookout from her perch high in the branches. Now, they only had to wait.

And wait, and wait.

Naruto and Sasuke occupied themselves tending the false camp, which meant Sakura had to remain crouched high above their heads. Her legs were starting to cramp from keeping one position for so long, and the insects in the dimness of the forest were brutal. She smacked her arm for the millionth time—she was going to be one giant itch when they finally got out of here. It was so humid and prickly in her nest of leaves it felt as though there were a thousand feathery feet swarming over her skin.

The headache she had been doing her best to ignore was building up to a crescendo in her temples, and she was starting to feel undeniably weak and dizzy. It would be the worst luck in the world to be coming down with something not six hours into the test. She glanced at the latest victim smeared on the palm of her hand, and was about to wipe it clean on the tree bark when she noticed how _familiar_ the little gray beetle looked, even flattened.

She blinked at it in the muted sunlight as she realized the rising ache in her temples was not the flu. "We've been spotted," she said whispered urgently into the radio. "An Aburame. He's been sucking at my chakra for who knows how long. Must be outside of my sensing range."

Sasuke blew a heavy sigh into his microphone. "How are you doing up there? Combat-capable?"

"Honestly, not so great. I don't think so. Sorry."

"Take care of Sakura; I'm assuming he's not alone," he ordered Naruto over the open channel. "I'm going to find him."

From his place in one of the gnarled willows, Sasuke ran a few search patterns through his head and began creeping downstream. He held his breath for a moment to better focus on the sounds of the forest... and any disruptions in them that would indicate the presence of another human being. Outside the gates, the only genin dressed in the unofficial Aburame uniform of a high-collared coat and dark glasses had been Shino. Their clan techniques were best suited to scouting and espionage, areas in which Shino had him completely outclassed, but hand-to-hand he knew he could easily overwhelm his former classmate.

After a few minutes of searching, Sasuke's eyes caught a tiny flash of blue light between the leaves. It was too early in the day to be a firefly… and there were more. Fed on their host's chakra, the normally inconspicuous bodies of an Aburame's beetles shone softly to an active sharingan, a fact his opponent did not seem to have taken into account.

"I know you're there," Sasuke said to the clump of leaves. "I'm not going to kill a fellow Konoha shinobi unless he gives me no other choice. Surrender."

A cloud of insects boiled out of the trees. Sasuke drew himself instantly out of range with a substitution, turned around, and brought his hands together to spray fire into their midst.

Shino dropped to the forest floor to clear the fireball, coming face to face with Sasuke. "I will not," he said, and ordered his remaining insects to spread into a sheet across the boles of two trees. In the time it took to dash around the wall of bugs, Shino had disappeared. He was no coward but a calculating, careful fighter, and was perfectly aware that he had no chance of winning if Sasuke succeeded in closing with him. It was far more likely he'd gone after Sakura, and Sasuke quickly backtracked.

The crackle of a twig alerted him to Kiba's charge next, Akamaru barking and snarling in a comical approximation of the real threat the ninken would represent when he was fully grown. But he could see very clearly that the body language was all wrong, and when 'he' brought his hands up into what was unmistakably a jyūken stance, Sasuke could only sigh.

"I know that's you, Hinata," he said. "You're going to have to try harder than _that_."

The henge dispelled as soon as their arms made contact. Avoiding Hinata's tentative strikes and thrusts was the stuff of playground games. With her dōjutsu and the elite training afforded to her by her lineage, she _could_ have been the one person in their class besides Naruto who was any danger to him in a melee. The reality, of course, was more disappointing.

He planted a kick in the center of her chest that sent her flying. She tumbled to a stop, gasping, at the trunk of the tree where Sakura had been positioned as their lookout. It was enough to knock the breath out of the Hyūga heiress, nothing worse, but caused the actual Kiba to snarl in rage and abandon his hiding place to launch himself at Sasuke. Dizzy or not, Sakura wasted no time in dropping her coils of chakra wire down the trunk of the tree, pulling Hinata tight against the bark.

"So will you," Sasuke said to Kiba, dancing out of the way with almost no effort. "This ambush isn't working out very well for you, is it?"

"Shut... up... asshole!" Kiba said between punches, all of which connected solidly with nothing.

Satisfied the team had been accounted for, Naruto dropped to the ground to assist in restraining Kiba. Shortly, Kiba was horizontal in the mud with Naruto's knee in his back and his kunai at his neck.

"S-sorry, Naruto-kun. I was outvoted," Hinata stumbled to explain. "P-please don't think I..."

Sasuke flipped his blade around in his hand, bringing it to rest below her jaw, and her lips snapped closed. Sakura dropped down to join them, a little unsteady, but still on her feet.

"Hinata!" Kiba cried. "Drop that or I'll—" Naruto ground his face harder into the stinking river mud, leaving Sasuke in suspense.

"Riiiiiiiight. Shino, I _can_ see you up there," Sasuke said, sounding bored. "To a sharingan, your kikaichu are glowing like lightning bugs. Drop your weapons and recall them."

"Although I seem to have made a grave tactical error, I will not surrender," Shino said from the concealment of the branches. "Why? I strongly doubt you have the resolve to carry out these implied threats against my teammates."

"You heard Mitarashi-san. We're enemies now," Sasuke said, pressing the point of his kunai harder against Hinata's throat. She whimpered as the well-honed blade drew a line of blood on her pale skin. "Drop your weapons and hand over your scroll. Since you've chosen to go after us, I'll have to assume you have what _we_ need."

Kiba writhed under the pressure of Naruto's weight against his spine. "We're not giving up this early in the game, not to you!" he snarled into the mud.

For several moments, no one moved. A drop of blood slid down Sasuke's kunai.

"Oh this is just _stupid_," Naruto said into the oppressive silence. "We all know you're not actually going to stab Hinata-chan, and we also know none of us are going to roll over and give up our scrolls without a fight. So why don't we just work together to get two more scrolls?"

Shino peeked his shock of dark hair through the boughs. "Why would I find this an intriguing proposition? Because my team is built for tracking and not heavy combat, leaving us at a disadvantage if we were to enter a pitched battle without support. Yours would benefit greatly from Hinata's ability to see if an enemy team carries the scroll you need before engaging them, since, while you are stronger than us, you are less experienced than most other teams." The kikaichu buzzing in the air withdrew. "Naruto is correct. Combining our units is the only logical course of action at this juncture."

Naruto let Kiba up, who started brushing furiously at his muddy jacket. "You didn't even try to save me and Hinata," he complained at Shino.

"I did not? You are both alive and almost entirely unharmed," Shino pointed out.

"I would've tried to rescue _you_. You didn't try to rescue me. Therefore," Kiba said, sounding very proud to have worked the word into his statement, "you are officially a dick."

Shino blinked at him behind his sunglasses, then turned to Sasuke. "As of yet, you have not attempted to stab my extremely uncouth teammate. From this I will infer you agree to Naruto's suggestion of an alliance."

"I agree," Sasuke said, straightening and returning his kunai to its holster. "Terms: We help each other secure one scroll each, and once we do we make a run for the tower. If we're attacked, we cover each other, and defend each other's scrolls from thieves. _But_, if the choice is between having one of our teammates get knocked out or killed, and protecting one of yours from the same, we chose our own."

"That is acceptable," Shino said. "I would do the same in such a situation."

"And I'm captain," Sasuke added. "You're my second-in-command."

"Hey!" Naruto and Kiba said indignantly, and in almost perfect unison.

"Also acceptable," Shino said. "You consistently outscored me in the Academy in tactics. Although not by very much," he added, with a small sniff.

The wires holding Hinata hostage uncoiled, and she breathed a tiny sigh of relief. "H-here, Sakura-san." She pulled a small pill bottle from her pocket and tipped one of the black tablets out into her palm. "Kiba-kun's sister gave us more of these than we could possibly use in five days. It will replenish some of your chakra, if you want it. They do tend to make you sort of jittery, though, so you probably shouldn't take more than one."

Sakura accepted the pill from Hinata, and almost as soon as she swallowed it perked up visibly.

"As long as we have all these traps strung up, we might as well use them," Sasuke said. "If they're anywhere nearby, you three have any objections to beating that Kiri team into fish paste?"

"No."

"N-none, Sasuke-san."

"Only if you let me punch in all of that girl's freaky shark teeth."

"Good," Sasuke said. "Hinata?"

She activated her byakugan and scanned the area for several minutes. "They're only about two kilometers. That way," she said, pointing into the trees. "There's one team between us and them, from Konoha. One of that group is injured and they're not moving. Besides them, a team from... either Iwa or Suna is nearest, but far enough away that I think we can avoid attracting their attention."

"Do you want my radio?" Sakura asked. "We only have three, so we should move in pairs if at all possible. We're going to be sunk if a bruiser comes along to pick a pair of us off and we can't call for help."

-ooo-

"Got them, 'captain'," Kiba said–a touch sullenly–into the radio, startling Naruto out of the light doze he'd fallen into. Sasuke glared at his brother for the lapse. "Akamaru says their chakra is pretty strong, especially the girl, but nothing we can't handle now that they're outnumbered two to one. They're following us at a distance real quiet-like."

"Understood," Sasuke said. "Give them the slip when you're near the tripwires I strung between those elms. Do _not_ engage until you're close enough for Naruto and I to back you up—they'll go for the kill without thinking twice."

Some time later, the three Kiri genin broke through the cover of the river plants, frowning in consternation at losing their intended targets. A little of the dying sunlight filtered down onto their exposed blades through the gap in the tree cover.

"...Seven Swords_men_. _Men_," Suigetsu said forcefully, taking out some of his frustration on a clump of innocent reeds.

"That's the best argument you can come up with?" Akaei retorted, haughty. "Ringo's a woman–I once caught her skinny-dipping with your brother in the cove. So Samehada is going to be mine. Last time you so much as poked it, it almost chewed off your hand_. _When I pick it up, it purrs. End of discussion."

"Pick it up? You can't even lift the damn... tch. Whatever."

Chōjurō swatted aside a fern. "Hiramekarei is my fav—" he began, aiming for a chink in the conversation.

Suigetsu glanced over his shoulder and snorted. "Nobody asked you. Anyway, you'd never be able to win it from Mangetsu. The Seven have a strict 'no pussies' admittance policy."

"But I—" he protested weakly.

"Never in a million years."

In the shadows, Sasuke craned his head over Sakura's shoulder. "Got them?" he whispered in her ear.

"Mm," Sakura grunted, frowning in concentration. Holding three targets under genjutsu at once was straining the limits of her endurance.

"Like we even need your sound screen over their bickering," Sasuke commented. "And I thought _our _team was bad."

Sasuke and Naruto had done their part in stringing up the traps; Kiba, Shino and Hinata had lured their targets close; and now it was on Sakura to make sure they walked into them. She had hidden their whispers below a chorus of frogs, to ensure they wouldn't be prematurely discovered, and now a few slight additions to the scene would complete the ambush. Ever so slightly, the scenery shifted.

"I'd guess they went down the creek to hide their trail," Akaei said, kneeling besides the shallow water as it rushed over its bed of smooth gray stones. "_Somebody_ wasn't watching where he put his feet and spooked them. If Sensei had been around to see this, he would've broken all of your fingers."

"Ohhh no, you're not pinning this one on me, Princess," Suigetsu complained. "If we're playing pin-the-blame-on-the-moron, I get to stick a little on you too."

"I think maybe she's right, I mean you did—" Chōjurō began.

"Stop kissing her ass or I ram my sword up _yours_!"

Chōjurō subsided with a mumbled apology.

"Shut up and look at this," Akaei said, motioning to half a set of small footprints pressed into the moss clinging to the stream-banks. "They did go east. Running scared, from the depth of the prints. Sloppy. We can still catch them."

Bracing her hand against her knee, she got to her feet. Her next step forward triggered a tripline and hail of senbon. She was good enough to activate a substitution before any of them hit, but the conveniently-placed downed log she'd chosen to take the projectiles in her stead had a few surprises stuffed under the rotting bark. Below the chirping of Sakura's genjutsu, her teammates didn't hear the sizzling paper until it was almost too late, leaping back only _just _far enough to avoid having any limbs blown off.

Suigetsu recovered first, shaking his head to clear it. He'd kept hold of his sword, and using it as a lever, pushed himself upright and drew the blade out of the sucking mud. Sasuke ran down the length of a massive branch and dropped behind him, weapons out. There were cries of anger or dismay as the rest of the ambush fell into place. "Look," he said, smirking at Suigetsu. "You got your wish."

"You're gonna regret coming after us," Suigetsu said. He raised his sword higher, a miniature replica of the massive cleaver his teacher carried. "Have you ever seen a chef prepare a whole roast duck? Comes out in nice little bite-sized pieces—you know, whack, whack, whack and on the plate, bones and all?" He grinned, to display those wicked serrated teeth. "You're the duck. I like to do the head last, so you can watch."

Suigetsu took the first swipe, snarling out a guttural challenge. Sasuke ducked under it, trying to get behind him. His swordplay was superb, better than any genin in Konoha he'd ever matched against. That thing really was a butcher's cleaver, and it had so much heft and momentum that trying to block Suigetsu's strikes with his own puny blades was essentially impossible. Such power did require sacrifices, however. Although a well-conditioned, fully grown man would have been able to compensate for its enormous weight, Suigetsu's thin teenage arms weren't fully up to the challenge. Sasuke bowed his body out of the way of another swing, trying to maneuver the other boy into burying the sword deep into a tree.

Only his sharingan saved him from having his arm parted at the shoulder. Sasuke saw his opening in the failed attack. Using a concentration of chakra to stick the palm of his hand against the flat of the wide blade, he shoved it forward. It jarred his shoulder painfully, but the unexpected weight was enough to angle it down... close enough to sheer through Suigetsu's leg.

He drew his foot out of the way without a moment to spare, thrown off balance, and Sasuke managed to kick his other leg out from under him. They tumbled a short distance down the low hill, coming to rest with Suigetsu flat on his back with Sasuke's kunai buried in his chest.

And the rest of his hand. Up to the _wrist_.

Suigetsu didn't seem overly concerned about this, since he looked up at Sasuke and said, "Oh, I am slain!" before cocking his arm to punch Sasuke in the face. Although Sasuke jerked aside to avoid his fist, he didn't avoid the attack itself—the water crept up from the other boy's torso and down his arm to form a thick tentacle. The liquid snaked across Sasuke's cheek, stifling a cry of surprise as it poured into his mouth and nose. The shock of the cold water wriggling into his body slackened his grip. Suigetsu gave a shove and reversed their positions, pushing him over on his back as he choked and coughed.

All that was left flesh was his head and shoulders. "Beheading is better, but drowning on dry land is a Hozuki classic too," he said, and with that shifted his entire body to water so Sasuke couldn't pull him off.

He arched his back, struggling uselessly and trying to fight back panic. This wasn't a contest of strength; Sasuke's arms and legs went right through the liquid.

But that did mean his hands were free to form signs. Like nearly all children born Uchiha, his primary affinity was fire (next to useless against the suiton), but a family full of prodigies did take pains to see _all_ of his potentials had been adequately trained. His second elemental affinity was far from mastered, but it might just be enough to free him today. Sasuke brought his hands together for a few quick signs and thrust his left into the rippling mass that was Suigetsu's chest.

The electrical charge released, and the formerly clear water turned thick and milky. Suigetsu's body spasmed and the hand he'd thrust into Sasuke's mouth withdrew. The raiton seemed to have disrupted his bodily cohesion; he didn't resist as Sasuke threw him off to draw another kunai. He charged this one with electricity and thrust it through the jellylike substance of Suigetsu's shoulder, pinning him.

"Not fair. Fuck you and your ugly mother too," Suigetsu croaked, through lips like a melting wax mannequin's.

Just as Sasuke was about to rise to aid the others, Hinata's voice came fluttering through the microphone. "Captain, the Suna team is closing on us, from the south. One of them is..." she stopped, casting about for the words to describe the infinite layers of visual complexity her byakugan granted her, "is too _bright," _she finished lamely. "It hurts to look at him. What do we do?"

Almost face to face with Sasuke, Suigetsu had heard Hinata's every word. "Gaara's here? Oh no. No, no, no, no. I take that back about your mom. Let me up?"

Sasuke coughed against the lingering irritation in his throat. "Too late. 'Sorry' doesn't get you far with an Uchiha."

"Come on, man, please? _Please? _You think I'm a bloodthirsty ax-crazy maniac? He makes me look like a teething puppy!" He writhed weakly around the kunai. "They say even his own jōnin sensei is scared shitless of him. Come on come on come on...?"

Sasuke levered himself to his feet, looking impassively down at his vanquished enemy as he continued melting gently into the undergrowth. "Thanks for the tip. If you'll excuse me... bigger fish, you know?"

"Fuck. _Fuck_," Suigetsu whined. "This is so embarrassing. Ch-chōjurō? Help? I'm... stuck. The Kazekage's kids found us. I'll buy you dinner for a week. I'll convince my brother to lend you Hiramekarei for an afternoon. Anything, just—"

To Sasuke's mild surprise, there was a cry of, "Get back here!" from Naruto as Chōjurō flickered away from the battle and to his teammate's aid. He and Hinata were close behind.

"Leave those two, we have a bigger problem," Sasuke ordered, and jogged forward to where the rest of them were occupied with the girl. Her chakra reservoir must have been massive, since she was still on her feet even through her clothes were swarming with Shino's insects.

"Break it off!" he called. "I have a bad feeling about this!" Between Itachi's cryptic warning and hints that Suigetsu knew something he didn't, Sasuke had become very, very uneasy.

Thinking quickly, Chōjurō had removed the paralyzing kunai by inserting a stick through the loop on the end and tossing it free. Suigetsu's body had regained nearly all of its proper color and substance, although his skin remained sickly pale.

"Do it!" Suigetsu called to Akaei, staggering to retrieve his sword. "Do what the Uchiha says!"

"Captain, do we fall back?" Shino asked, as his kikaichu spiraled back into his coat sleeves.

At Kiba's ankles, Akamaru lifted his head head to the listless, clammy breeze. His nostrils flared. The scent on that wind dropped his tail between his legs and he began to whine and paw at his partner's pant leg. "Too late," Kiba murmured.

All eyes turned to the rustling of the undergrowth, which seemed to part itself. The smallest of the Suna genin stepped leisurely out of the weeds, his teammates arriving on the branches above his head.

"You," Suigetsu said. "You're Gaara of the Desert, Kankurō, and Temari. The Big Happy Sand Family. The Mizukage warned us about _you_."

"Did he?" Temari asked. "Then why aren't you running?"

Suigetsu ignored her and favored Gaara with a lopsided grin. "You're not the only one in this exam they call a demon."

Naruto sucked in a sharp breath, although it was clear Suigetsu's words weren't meant for him. He took a step forward, to put himself between Hinata and the newcomers from Suna.

To Sasuke's sharingan, a glow began to form around Gaara, spreading out around his feet. Hinata could see it too, with even more clarity; she'd begun to back away and was plucking at Naruto's sleeve to get him to follow after her. Suigetsu either didn't notice the grains of chakra-saturated sand hovering in the air or didn't care. Gaara said nothing, but moistened his lips with his crimson tongue and matched Suigetsu's smile tooth for tooth. It was indescribably more terrifying.

"There's something about the redhead I really, _really_ don't like," Sasuke whispered into his mike. "I think the Kiri team has better intelligence on him than we do. Stay out of their way."

As he spoke Gaara's sand solidified, arching like a cobra ready to strike.

"Mother thinks it would be fun for me to play with you..." Gaara began, and tipped his head back to giggle. "With all of you. I am 'it'. They would never let me play at home, so I do not remember the rules. Kankurō, what are the rules?"

Kankurō had drawn back against the trunk, and was exchanging nervous looks with his sister in the neighboring tree. "They're whatever you say they are, Gaara."

"Ah. Good. I thought that was how it worked."

The sand crashed down on Suigetsu all at once, trying to grind him to a paste, pouring down and down until all that was left was a sword and a pile of damp sand. Gaara cocked his head, perplexed. He drew some of the sand back, although the wet stuff seemed sluggish and inelegant in its movements. Neither of Suigetsu's teammates seemed concerned, and the Konoha genin quickly realized why. Pulverizing a body would have _stank_—it was a lesson every genin learned the first time they failed to properly gut a snared rabbit.

Before Gaara could rectify his mistake, a stream of water spurted out of the sand to encircle his throat, which settled first into Suigetsu's arm and then the rest of him–poised to break Gaara's neck.

Gaara didn't flinch. His eyes widened a fraction but the maniacal grin remained in place. His face seemed to dissolve as the sand coating his skin flowed swiftly across Suigetsu's arms. The satisfaction on the white-haired boy's face soured into fear, and then agony as the tendril of sand tightened so quickly the bones in his forearm fractured with a sound like twigs snapping. A fist of sand rose from the ground and swatted Suigetsu aside. He hit a nearby tree trunk with a grunt and fell to his knees, clutching his broken arm to his chest.

"Tch. It's all over you, too?" he muttered. He was panting with pain but rose anyway. After a moment, he initiated his hydrification technique and mended the broken bones as it released, shaking out the lingering ache. "That was your fault for zapping me," he grumbled at Sasuke. "I'm not usually this slow."

More murderous laughter bubbled out of Gaara's mouth. "No one has been able to get so close to me in _ages_!" he cried with glee. Sand gouted from his gourd and began whisper through the grass and stones. "Mother is thirsty. Very, very thirsty. But she doesn't like water. She doesn't like that at _all._"

"Get off the ground!" Sasuke screamed, launching himself into the air and whipping through the thicket behind Gaara. Dozens of sand spikes, from the circumference of a sewing needle to that of an arrow shaft, erupted from the soil. The kunai and shuriken that hailed down in response were all met by the sand.

"Don't waste your weapons," Sasuke called to his allies. "Naruto, back me up and the rest of you get out of range!"

"Screw that!" Kiba yelled. "No way you're taking all the glory for yourselves!"

Shino joined him on the branch with a rustle of leaves. "This is not about glory," Shino said tightly, taking Kiba by the sleeve of his gray coat. "Get moving or I will drag you out of here myself."

As the Konoha genin began to withdraw, Kankurō and Temari exchanged nods and took up pursuit. Temari unhooked the massive tessen from the catch on her back as Kankurō and the cloaked shape beside him melted into the shadows.

"You should've said your goodbyes," Temari called after them. "When Gaara is finished with them, all that'll be left of your friends will be their headplates and bloody paste. He's already done it once today, and that just whets his appetite!"

-ooo-

Five against one—still terrible odds considering how dangerous that sand was, but leagues better than one against two against three. Naruto sprang clear as another column of sand pulverized the branch he'd been standing on. His leap brought him to the ground beside Suigetsu, who was eyeing the sword still half-buried in the dirt in front of Gaara. "Hey Sharky, truce for now?" he asked.

"Not a bad idea," Suigetsu said. "Bastard's even tougher than I thought."

Sasuke swung down to join them, watching the girl attempt to get close enough to score Gaara with her poisoned daggers and failing. "This isn't like it was with Team Eight. I don't trust them."

"Trust us? Of course you shouldn't trust us. That would be stupid," Suigetsu said, and sniffed. "As soon as Gaara's down I'm going to pick up right where we left off, but _until _then... an alliance is the only way even a single one of us is getting out of this forest alive."

"We got two problems—the sand armor, and the stuff he's got floating around loose," Naruto said. "If I can pull most of the loose sand after me, can one of you two make like a fire hose and blast him? He doesn't seem to like getting wet. Then Sasuke can duck in and hammer him hand-to-hand."

"I can't use the suiton yet," Chōjurō admitted.

"_I _can," Suigetsu said. "I'll do it."

"Naruto, you can't take him by yourself!" Sasuke objected.

Gaara had gone from an unsettling giggle to outright maniacal cackling. The sand had formed an ominous cloud above his head.

"Can. Crap!" he yelped. "Scatter! I'll be fine, Sasuke!"

Gaara had kept his feet planted in one spot, his arms loose at the shoulder and his chest heaving with exhilaration. Naruto landed behind him. He brought his hands together and took a deep breath. He spat the compressed air into an invisible spear, which drilled into the cloud of sand. As if a living thing, the grains reacted to the disturbance and condensed around the entry point into a sheet of tough sandstone. Naruto's wind blade succeeded only in pushing Gaara back a single step. That was fine. All he needed was to get the redhead's attention.

The sandstone dispersed into its constituent particles. He swung his head around to evaluate the new threat. He seemed pleased.

Naruto swallowed. "You suck at this game," he announced. "I've got the stupid Earth scroll, and you don't."

A column of sand crashed into the tree-branch he'd just been standing on, reducing it to woodchips.

"No. You do not understand. Temari wants scrolls," Gaara said, cocking his head. "I want _blood_."

"That still works," Naruto muttered to himself, dodging another column of sand. He added, more loudly, "You can't have it, not mine and not my friends."

"You are mistaken," Gaara answered. "What I want, I take. No one can stop me. Not my brother, my sister, my teacher…" an even more murderous glint appeared in his eyes, "or my father. He has tried to kill me six times. As you can see, he has failed."

"Wait, wait, back up," Naruto said, panting. When Gaara was talking, the attempts to reduce him to a gory smear in the dirt let up a little. "Why would your own dad try to kill you? That's a hundred kinds of messed up."

"I am a demon," he said offhandedly. "Stop jumping around like that. It makes it more difficult to crush your skull."

The sand slammed against the trunk of Naruto's tree, chewing away the bark in seconds. Naruto spun himself around to land on a higher branch and looked down at Gaara. He was getting a bad feeling about this. Not that he might die, which was rather exhilarating, but from the intensity of the hatred that filled the air. He hadn't experienced it in what felt like a lifetime, but he remembered the sensation of its claws sinking into his heart. In his case, they hadn't been able to find purchase for long. Sasuke had seen to that. He could only assume no one in Gaara's life had seen fit to do the same.

It was difficult to muster pity for someone actively trying to kill you. Naruto, being Naruto, managed.

But there was little time to indulge in idle questions. The sand surged forward again, nipping at his feet as he leaped upward branch by branch. Gaara snarled in frustration and sent more spraying out of the container strapped to his back–it seemed he had rarely encountered an opponent this energetic or agile. The wood cracked and screamed, and Naruto suddenly realized the tree wasn't going to stay vertical for much longer. He jumped to another as the deep gouge in the trunk toppled it. The sand surged for him in midair, and he used a blast of wind to reverse direction, only barely escaping its clutches. As he landed, he battered Gaara with a flurry of wind blades, trying to draw even more of the deadly sand after him while simultaneously forcing Gaara into the rushing water.

"Not even scratched!" he taunted. If there was anything Naruto was good at, it was being distracting. He just had to keep stretching the sand out, and out, and out, and then... The hiss of water and a choked growl from Gaara. Suigetsu had excellent timing.

The sand in the air went slack. Naruto risked a glance behind him. Sasuke had disappeared from his position on Gaara's far side with a tiny curl of smoke and reappeared just behind him. His shunshin was perfect. There was no pause for taunts or gloating, just driving forward with a kunai in his fist. Runnels of dirty water were sluicing down Gaara's skin. Most of his sand armor had fallen into the mud and was disappearing downstream.

Naruto sucked in a breath to yell out their triumph… and let it out in a whimper of dismay when one dun-colored hand emerged from the substance of the gourd itself, then a second. Sasuke was already too close to change his trajectory. The sandstone fingers closed around his wrist and twisted until the knife fell into the mud. The other grasped his face and drove him to his knees. He couldn't knock the sandstone hands away without risking serious injury to Sasuke.

"I win," Gaara said, twisting his head to peer over what was left of the sandstone gourd. The unearthly fingers squeezed closer. Sasuke clawed at the thing with his uninjured hand, barely scraping a few grains from the surface with his nails.

From somewhere in the distance, there was the crash of falling timber and Temari begun to scream Kankurō's name. Hearing her cries, a strange expression flitted across Gaara's features; it was a deep, raw sadness, as if he wished, perhaps, that it had been his name on her lips instead. Whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it had come. But the moment of his inattention hadn't gone to waste. Naruto was still many bounds away, but the Kiri team was closer.

Akaei had pivoted gracefully over the muck around Gaara's feet and landed up to her ankles in river water. She sketched off a long chain of handsigns and spread her arms wide. The river roared and bucked in its banks, and the column of water was lifted from the bed. The dragon shape was barely recognizable, ugly and crude, and the girl was shaking visibly with the effort of holding it.

"No, don't!" Naruto screamed at her.

The waterspout went spiraling at Gaara and Sasuke, striking with enough force to sweep them off their feet. Akaei gave it one more mental shove, sending both combatants coursing rapidly downstream. The water calmed within moments, and when it had again settled in its course she took a tottering step aside and collapsed.

"What did you _do?_" Naruto cried. "You might've killed him!"

"I hope she did," Suigetsu said nastily. He hefted his cleaver again and slid his heels wide in the mud, between Naruto and his unconscious teammate. Chōjurō took a few quick steps forward until they were side by side. "Working together for a few minutes doesn't make us friends. It makes you gullible. And outnumbered."

The soles of Naruto's sandals struck the ground as he landed in a deep crouch, and the sound was far louder than it ought to have been. Steam began to wick from the mud that had inundated the battlefield.

"Um, Suigetsu?"

"What?"

"His eyes weren't red before, were they?"

"It's the Uchiha dōjutsu. Don't wo–oh. Oh _shit_."

-ooo-

Kiba came came up short, bounced improbably against a tree trunk and executing a perfect one-hundred-eighty degree turn in midair. He came to land on a boulder barely level enough for him to balance on his toes. "So, Mister Acting Captain Sir… you done running scared?" he asked. Akamaru yipped twice in support.

"I do not 'run scared'," Shino corrected, from his perch above Kiba's head. A cloud of insects buzzed out of his coat to secret themselves beneath the bark and leaves. "I strategically retreat. Hinata, are we likely to see any more interference?"

"N-nothing besides those two from Suna, but they're closing fast. The boy has something running beside him, but it has no chakra of its own."

"He must be Puppet Corps," Sakura supplied, from where she was kneeling near Shino. "I've read about them–they wear outfits like old-fashioned stagehands. Most of them are back-of-the line fighters, but getting close is going to be tough. If he's the Kazekage's son he's probably _really_ good."

"_Puppet Corps?"_ Kiba repeated, incredulous. "What's he gonna do? Mime us to death?"

"He can attach chakra threads to just about anything he wants, which means each piece of the puppet can move on its own _and_ he can use whatever bits of the terrain he wants against us. Most of the puppets are full of senbon launchers and gas grenades and hidden knives," Sakura said, then added: "Plus, Suna shinobi have this habit of smearing everything with poisons that can make even a scratch fatal."

"That, uh, sounds a little more threatening than I'd imagined," Kiba mumbled. "But I bet I can still take him."

"And the tessen?" Shino prodded.

"That?" Sakura answered with a helpless shrug. "No clue."

"I believe we can assume closing to melee range with either of them will be extraordinarily difficult," Shino said. "Sakura and I will stay back to provide whatever support we can. The bulk of the engagement will be on you two until I can formulate a strategy counter their techniques."

"Three," Kiba corrected. "I keep telling you Akamaru counts."

Hinata pulled her chin tighter into her jacket. The only contribution she made to the conversation was a noise like the air being let out of a very small balloon.

"Everybody ready?" Kiba asked.

"Not really," Hinata whispered. "But they're here, so…"

Temari pushed aside a spray of leaves and strolled into the clearing. "Shall we get this over with?" she asked, contempt dripping from every syllable.

Kiba cracked his knuckles and leaped down from the boulder so they were facing each other. "Just so you know, I don't believe in that chivalry crap. Got _no_ problems hitting a girl."

Temari's lips crinkled. As Kiba looked on in uncertainty, uproarious laughter spouted from her mouth to fill the close air between the trees. "No problems? We'll see," she said, dabbing tears of mirth from her face with one knuckle. She swung the fan to the ground, exposing a violet circle printed on the paper with a flick of her wrist. "All right, hit me. I'm not going anywhere."

"Kiba-kun, I don't think you should just–" Hinata started to say.

The fan swept upward with commendable grace for so much solid steel, and a cone of air that shimmered as if deep in a heat mirage came to meet Kiba and Akamaru's assault. Their momentum was arrested; for a moment they hung in the air, suspended by nothing, before being tossed back in the direction they'd come.

"–charge her," Hinata finished, scurrying quickly to Kiba's side. Somehow he'd managed to turn in the air so he absorbed most of the force with his legs instead of his head, and struggled upright once more.

"Well come on," Temari drawled. "I thought you said you were going to hit me." She drew open the fan a little wider and began tapping out an uneven beat on the metal with her fingers. "And you," she said to Hinata, "are a pathetic excuse for a kunoichi. You in the red, wherever you're cowering, if anything, you're worse. If you expect the men to do your fighting for you because you're too afraid to break a nail, why'd you get into this profession in the first place?"

The insults made Sakura's muscles twitch, but before she could break her cover, Shino's hand darted out to close around her wrist.

"She is trying to refocus our attention away from her brother. Do not allow yourself to be goaded into attacking impulsively," Shino whispered. "Kiba may be an idiot, but he is both very tough and very agile, and is attempting to force the Suna shinobi into revealing as many of their techniques as possible before I engage with my kikaichu. It is a strategy that has served us well in the past."

Sakura nodded once and sat back on her heels.

Kiba wiped at the droplets of blood oozing from the uncountable tiny cuts that now covered his exposed skin. "Being smarter than me doesn't make Hinata pathetic. She–"

His ears pricked at a quiet click from the underbrush and he dove aside, rolling over one shoulder and landing crouched beast-like on his toes and palms. Hinata's byakugan gave her the same warning. A kunai leaped into her fist and she spun around to deflect two projectiles aimed for her, whose trails had left a musty scent in the air and traces of violet slime on the leaf mould on which they'd fallen.

Another cacophony of wooden joints and the puppet abruptly reversed direction, targeting Sakura and Shino. They both dove aside as their former hiding place was peppered with kunai. Sakura cleared them all; Shino did not, grunting in pain as one of the kunai scored a slit through the tough fabric of his coat and into his thigh.

"Aw come on, just one of those hit?" Kankuro complained, as the two Konoha genin landed on the ground beside their allies. The puppet swooped around a branch, all six limbs tight against its bulbous body. His fingers twitched; the puppet's ragged black cloak billowed out as it went for Shino again, pressing the advantage it had gained with the first attack. Unbound by the limitations of human anatomy, two of its multi-jointed arms shot out to encircle Shino's wrists, too fast to avoid. The third arm's palm snapped up vertically to display a long knife mounted in the wrist. With a triumphant smirk, Kankuro thrust the tip clear through Shino's heart.

"_Shin–_oh never mind," Sakura finished under her breath, as the body of her mortally wounded comrade dissolved into a mass of bugs.

"Don't worry, Sakura-san, he does that a lot!" Hinata assured her.

The kikaichu hovering in the air were busily sneaking into every crack and crevice on the puppet they could find, intent on jamming the delicate joints with their own crushed bodies.

Temari grasped his plan within seconds. With her brother behind her and safely out of range, she hefted the fan again and swung. A wall of air slammed into Shino's swarm and sent them tumbling helplessly far from the battlefield, throwing up masses of grit and dried leaves to blind the Konoha genin. They took what shelter they could behind the largest tree trunks to avoid the invisible knives whistling through the air.

"My swarm cannot reach his chakra threads," Shino said, raising his voice to be heard over the howling gale. "I am open to alternatives!"

Before the storm of debris had fully died down, Kankurō turned on Kiba and Hinata next. She'd kept her eyelids clamped shut to protect them from the dirt lashing her face, but the byakugan was hardly impeded by a thin layer of skin. She darted forward, putting herself between the puppet and the blinded Kiba. Her palms stiff and aglow with chakra, she spun them through the empty air. The puppet went limp. Both Konoha genin took the opportunity to scamper behind safer trees.

Kankurō spread his hands wide and reattached every chakra thread as the component parts of his weapon clattered to the ground. It floated back to him and out of Hinata's reach. "Well, at least you're trying, Creepy Eyes Girl," he said, advancing closer to their hiding places. "Where's the pink one? Seriously, why are you even here? You haven't done a damn thing."

"Would one of you hand over the scroll and surrender already?" Temari called, allowing the winds to calm. "I'm not an unreasonable woman; I'd let you all live. And I'd really, really rather not have to fish it out of a pile of dismembered corpses."

Stealthily, Shino worked his way back to where Sakura was crouched in hiding. "As long as she has her wits about her we will not be able to penetrate her guard," he whispered, barely audible. "If my kikaichu could close with her I believe they could chew through the paper and render the tessen useless, but I will need a distraction."

Sakura had studied until her eyes burned and her back ached. One unifying thread had run through all of those books and scrolls—a genjutsu user didn't have to be strong. They attained mastery of their form when they became a mirror, reflecting the strength of their opponent back at them in a single, perfect moment.

"They're brother and sister, aren't they?" she said to Shino. "I'm going to try to turn them against each other. Tell Kiba and Hinata to get ready to book it if this doesn't work."

"I can have my insects in position in two minutes. Trip it then," he ordered. He activated the mouthpiece to communicate the message to Hinata, and allowed Sakura to creep away.

The first and simplest genjutsu she'd learned was all she needed. Just a trick of the eyes and ears for a few minutes, and both threats could be neutralized.

"All right, all right!" Sakura cried. "We give up. I have the scroll–it's yours."

"Kankurō," Temari ordered, gesturing with her chin. She raised her head to call out to the Konoha genin. "You try anything cute and he's going to break out the poison gas. Good luck avoiding that."

Concealed in the leaves, Sakura sent out a strand of her consciousness and looped it around the puppeteer. If this didn't work, they were all as good as dead.

"Here," Sakura's illusory double said, as it rose unsteadily from a patch of greenery. Kankurō came a few steps closer, sending the puppet forward to accept the scroll. He'd been caught, and so had his sister. Her eyes had moved toward the rustle of leaves when her copy had revealed itself. Confident they were both solidly under her influence, Sakura set the next stage in motion.

Before he could shout out a warning, Sakura sent the illusion of a vine twining around his mouth to silence him and bind his hands. More sprouted from the ground to root his feet in place.

For Temari, she sent a vision of her brother leaping backward out of the brush, his jumpsuit torn and blood streaming down his right hand. "Temari! It was a trap! Kill them!" the image cried.

She snarled and raised her fan, ready to level the patch of trees. The real Kankurō had bitten down on his tongue to let the pain break him free, but wasn't fast enough. Saplings toppled under wind's onslaught. He managed to throw the puppet in front of him; it was hollow and not much of a shield. The blast of air slammed into its empty body, shredding its cloak and snapping the wooden staves that made up its torso. Kankuro was thrown backward into a scattering of boulders. When the wind died both he and his shattered puppet remained limp on the ground.

The iron struts of the fan slipped down Temari's fingers as Sakura's genjutsu melted away. "_Kankurō_!" Temari screamed. "Kankuro, _get up_!"

Shino took his cue from her distraught cry. Temari scrabbled for her weapon again but was too late; the swarm had risen like smoke from the leaves beneath her feet. Within seconds the innumerable tiny jaws had chewed two dozen neat lines across the chakra-saturated paper, splitting it at the ribs.

"Hinata, Kiba, bring her down!" Shino ordered.

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Kiba bellowed. A swirl of smoke and there were two of him charging Temari, a blur too fast for the eyes to track. She snapped the ruined fan closed and hefted the thing as a club. Although she was evidently adept at fighting this way, her weapon's weight was a disadvantage against the lightness and unpredictability of the Inuzuka's fighting style. When Kiba and Akamaru slid to a stop on her far side, her left shoulder and cheek were dripping blood.

Even injured, her grip on her weapon was relentless–Hinata still couldn't get close enough to disable her. When Kiba rejoined the melee, he met with the same lack of success.

"Damn, you are good," he said, and sidestepped to avoid being brained by the long block of steel.

Temari spun it around to slam the fan into his gut instead. Instead of moving aside this time, Kiba took it full force, his hands closing around her weapon even as the pain buckled his knees.

With the opening he'd given her, Hinata insinuated herself inside Temari's guard and struck the shoulder Kiba hadn't already damaged. She lost her grip on the fan when everything below the joint went numb.

Temari let it go and pulled out a kunai with her good hand, her eyes wide and desperate. "How…?"

Hinata didn't stop to answer her. Temari deflected most of the blows but not far enough; the near-misses were still enough for Jyūken to do its damage. The foreign energy tore through her opponent's chakra pathways like broken glass, ripping countless microscopic tears in the muscle wherever Hinata's technique had made contact.

Within a minute the blonde girl was staggering. Pinprick drops of red had begun to well up beneath her skin. Sensing the end was close, Hinata drove the palm of her hand, fingers curled back, deep into Temari's stomach. She flinched away, reflexively drawing her arms around her midsection. Her legs went weak and she didn't rise again.

"Your scroll?" Shino prompted, from the edge of the clearing. "You fought well but were outnumbered. Alone I do not think I could have bested you."

Temari grimaced, gagged, and spat out a mouthful of blood at Hinata's feet. Her every move sluggish with broken pride, she reached into her sash and produced it. "I'm not giving you the pleasure of watching me beg for mercy. Do whatever you want to us."

"I shall," Shino said. He extended his arm. A black cloud condensed at his fingertips, and then shot out envelop Temari. Her eyes rolled back and she slumped over.

"Kiba-kun, are you okay?" Hinata called, pacing back to where he was still kneeling on the ground and coughing sporadically.

"Think so," he said, between short, sharp breaths. He brought his hand up to probe gingerly at a spot on his right side, in line with his bottommost rib, and grimaced. "Might've cracked it, but I've had worse."

"Kiba, you idiot," Sakura said, marching over to loom over the panting boy. "I saw how hard she hit you. Blunt abdominal trauma is way outside of what I've learned to fix, with all the fiddly little capillaries running through everything, and if any of your solid organs were ruptured you are _so screwed_."

"Sakura, come on," he said, and pulled up his jacket to reveal a suit of lacquered plates strapped to his torso. "I may not be an evil genius like Shino, but I'm not _that_ dumb."

"What makes me warrant the qualifier?" Shino asked crossly.

"What do you mean you… you just killed that girl! Looked her right in the eye and… bam. That was cold even for you."

"No he didn't," Hinata said quietly. "She's in chakra-depletion shock, but not far gone enough to be fatal. Her brother is badly injured but still alive, too."

"She claimed she would have spared us," Shino explained, pausing to push his glasses back up. "Both of our opponents are hurt too badly to remain a threat to us, and I am inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt. I believe we should return to see how Naruto and Sasuke have fared. Hinata, lead the way."

-ooo-

There was neither smoke nor fire, but the air Sakura sucked into her lungs coated her mouth in the flavor of charred bread, black and bitter. There was no ringing of blade on blade, no footsteps, no cries of pain or triumph.

Hinata's temples were still pulsing with her active byakugan. She focused it toward the other battlefield and gasped. "N-naruto-kun is–"

Sakura caught Hinata by the sleeve, making her stumble. "We need to talk; not now," she whispered into Hinata's ear. "Let me go first. Stall Kiba and Shino. Bandage them up, argue with them, trip them, whatever… I don't care."

Hinata obeyed immediately, falling back and fishing her first aid kit out of her waist pouch, as Sakura stepped into the open.

"Naruto?" Sakura called hesitantly.

He was face to face with Chōjurō, the last Kiri genin still standing. Naruto had caught his slender blade in one bare fist. _He_ wasn't bleeding, but the straight edge of the steel had begun to warp and blush a cherry-red. Something was rippling around his clothing, a fire that wavered in and out of the visible ranges.

Akaei was still unconscious, her pallid skin an even more sickly gray from chakra exhaustion; Suigetsu was slumped against a tangle of roots, nursing a vicious burn that spiraled up one leg to the knee.

"I said we surrender," Chōjurō mouthed. His thin arms were trembling with barely-contained terror, although he still kept a desperate grip on his sword hilt. "We _surrender_."

Walking toward them was like swimming through mud, the air felt so thick. "Naruto, let him go," Sakura said quietly.

Naruto hissed through clenched teeth. With great effort, he released the sword's blade, leaving finger marks in the metal. "No. No. Not this time, you stupid beast. My choice, not yours."

As soon as Naruto had backed away, Chōjurō dropped his weapon, fell to his knees, and laced his fingers in his tufts of blue hair. "Our scroll, weapons, rations… whatever you want, it's yours. Just don't kill them."

Naruto wiped his sweat-soaked face with a sleeve. His chest was heaving. As soon as he could control his breathing well enough to speak, he looked down at Chōjurō and said, "You know, for all those other two push you around, you're actually really brave. When I'm like this, _I_ scare me."

"I'm… I'm _what_?" Chōjurō whispered, baffled.

"When it counts, which is what really matters," Naruto said. "Scroll's all we need. None of us are much for swords, and you look like you're going to need all your first aid supplies."

Slowly, so they could watch his hands, Chōjurō got up and paced to where Akaei lay. He extracted the paper from the pouch slung low over her back. "Here," he said, tossing it at Naruto's feet. "Take it."

"Kiri shinobi…" Suigetsu said hoarsely, raising his head. "Do not surrender what is ours."

Chōjurō glanced over his shoulder. "Well, I'm a Kiri shinobi, and I just did it–so that means we do. The scroll for our lives is a fair trade."

Suigetsu growled, half in pain and half in frustration. "This is going to bite us in the ass so hard we won't be able to sit down for a month! Sensei—"

"Can be mean as a starving orca sometimes, but I think he'd still be pretty upset if we all died for no good reason, and this isn't a fight we can win," Chōjurō interrupted. "Remember that mission when he thought that pirate captain had lopped off your head? Until you popped back over the rail, he looked like he was about to chop them all into bite-sized pieces or… or start tearing up or… probably both at once."

"_Zabuza_-sensei was about to…?"

"Uh-huh. I don't care if you believe me or not, it happened."

"I don't, and winning is the reason we're here, you fucking pu–"

"Would you _stop calling me a pussy!?_" Chōjurō exploded. "Did you even notice I saved your life twice in the last hour? I didn't have to then and I don't now. I can just leave you here for Gaara to find again and squash like a ripe tomato–it'd be easier for me. Is 'everyone for themselves' _really_ what you want?"

Naruto looked long and hard down at Suigetsu. "Looks like you can't walk. I'm going to tell you something important, and it's up to you whether or not you want to listen.

"I like this guy; he's got his priorities straight," he said, gesturing at Chōjurō. "If you want his help now, then it's a two-way street from here on. If you want to stay and fight us, I'm going to have to kill you. I don't want to, but if you try to hurt the people I care about, I'll do it. That's my path as a shinobi. I wouldn't have expected anyone from the Bloody Mist to understand, but I'm betting he does, so I guess you're not all hopeless."

Suigetsu heaved a deep sigh, shaky with pain, and then said, in the smallest voice possible, "I'm sorry I called you a pussy. Could you help me up? Uh… please?"

"Yeah," Chōjurō said with a lopsided smile. "Let me see if I can cut a branch for you to lean on, then I'll get her."

Sakura motioned with her head back in the direction she'd come. "Hinata is patching up Kiba and Shino," she said to Naruto. "Where's Sasuke?"

"Swept downstream," Naruto said. "He's a good swimmer. I'm sure he's… fine, we just need to find him. And Sakura… You'd didn't see anything weird back there, did you?"

"Weird?" Sakura asked, with false lightness. "I don't know what you're talking about."


	10. Chapter 10

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 10 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Sasuke's flailing hand closed around a low-hanging vine, and with that lifeline he painfully inched his way out of the flood. He let go as soon as it was shallow enough for him to stand without being swept away and doubled over a boulder, coughing. After wrestling the fit under control, he staggered out of the water.<p>

His right wrist felt like all the little pebbly bones had been removed from their place, pounded to pieces with a sledgehammer, and then slipped back inside his skin; aside from that, the river's tossing him about like a ragdoll hadn't done any serious damage. Most of his gear–save the waterlogged radio–was intact.

Gaara's body had become wedged between two boulders several meters behind, in the shallows, as if drawn to safety by an invisible string. He clambered out to the opposite bank, eying Sasuke like a cornered animal and saying nothing. His complexion was ashen and his posture unsteady; either he'd been pummeled worse by the river rocks or one of the Kiri team had gotten lucky with a poisoned blade.

Aside from the sand he had been completely unarmed… and now there was no sand.

Sasuke's left hand went to his shuriken pouch and faltered. "You're like Naruto, aren't you? I never realized there was more than one."

After several seconds of silence, Gaara found his tongue again, too battered and bewildered for violence. "Like… me?" he repeated. "And what is he to _you_?"

"My brother… and my best friend."

"Why? Why does he need…?"

"Everyone does," Sasuke answered.

"_I_ don't," Gaara said savagely, desperately. A few weak whirls of dry earth rose from behind him. "If my brother ever crossed me, I'd kill him. That is how I know I am alive. I kill. I'll kill you! I'll–"

"With what?" Sasuke asked, shaking his head, as the amorphous cloud of dirt collapsed back into the ground. "Don't ask me where this is coming from, but I feel really sorry for you." He took a step back, and then another, never allowing Gaara to leave his sight.

Gaara took a stumbled forward into the water, fighting for consciousness now. "Where are you going?"

"Far away from you," Sasuke said. "You probably broke my wrist, and I don't feel like finding a way across this river to end your miserable life."

It wasn't until he could no longer see the sheen of red hair that Sasuke allowed himself to turn his back. The sounds of the forest had been muffled by the water in his ears. He took a moment to knock it out, his eyes darting after every nocturnal creature. The sharingan was amazing, but it wasn't of much more use in the dark than normal sight. With a satisfying pop, he found he could hear again.

Then he realized he wasn't alone. In the forest, someone was crying.

His first assumption was that it was a trap. He had two choices: spring it now, or ignore it and head back upstream, possibly with an enemy at his back on this side of the river. He weighed the pros and cons for a few moments and then began stealthily working his way through the underbrush.

Curled against a rotten tree stump was the kunoichi from Kusagakure that Anko had elected to scare witless before the test began. Her crimson hair had fallen across her face, and she was covered in blood and sobbing quietly into her elbows. She raised her head and looked directly at him, although he was upwind and positive he hadn't betrayed his position. She and her glasses had parted ways some time ago, leaving her to squint into the darkness.

"Just take it," she whispered, pulling a Heaven scroll from the pocket of her gray pants. She leaned forward to place it on the ground in front of her and then sat back against the tree, her arms folded over her lap. "It doesn't matter anymore. Dosu and Zaku wouldn't listen to me and now they're both sausage meat. I told them he was a demon. I _told_ them."

Sasuke took a few steps closer. He stopped a dozen paces in front of her, not taking the scroll just yet. "Do you mean Gaara?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's just like last time. No matter how much I try to warn everyone it never helps! They know I can see it, so why don't they listen?"

"You're a chakra sensor," Sasuke murmured. He bit down on his lip, hoping he wasn't going to regret this. He wasn't sure how far downstream the current had taken him, and with night descending the forest had become almost pitch black. With one of his hands useless he could not form signs, a very dangerous position for a shinobi to be in. The blood encrusting her clothes smelled real enough, and if her teammates truly had been killed by Gaara she had no incentive to betray him for a shot at passing the test. "You can come with me, if you want. If you can lead me back to my team, we'll do our best to see you safely to the tower. What's your name?"

"Karin," she said, and sniffled.

"Uchiha Sasuke. Come on. Let's go."

"Sasuke-kun?" she said, raising her head to squint at him again. "You're sweet. I wasn't expecting that." She uncurled her fists to reveal a scrap of dirty paper in one hand and a tiny vial in the other. Before Sasuke could stop her, she uncorked it with a thumbnail and tossed the dark liquid against the seal drawn onto the sheet. "So I'm really, really sorry. _Really_ sorry," she whispered, as smoke began pouring out of the paper she'd tossed upon the ground.

Sasuke tried to leap clear but found he couldn't, as if his feet had grown roots. "The hell did you—" he started.

"Such a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Sasuke-kun," said a voice from the smoke.

Looking into the man's eyes, Sasuke's mouth went dry from the pressure of his chakra. He recognized that face from the textbooks and television screens–the skin pale as paper, the long black hair, the sharp points of the tattoos curving down his eyes.

Sasuke was forced perfectly still, bound too tightly even to scream, as Orochimaru paced around him. A few thoughts did manage to trickle around the overwhelming terror. Orochimaru had all the grace of a serpent, but the black cloak hung too loose on his frame, and there was a subtle but unmistakable wheezing in every breath. Even as weak and sick as he must have been, _this_ was what it felt like to face down one of the Sannin.

His white hands traced the cords of muscle up Sasuke's arms and across his shoulders. He tipped Sasuke's head back and forth, to admire his face—and especially his sharingan—from every angle. And it wasn't even desire. As revolting as that would have been, this was worse. He was inspecting Sasuke the same way a farmer inspected a piglet he intended to purchase, even going so far as to draw his jaw apart to check his teeth. To Orochimaru, he was nothing more than _meat_.

When he finished, he bent low over Sasuke's ear. "Beauty _and_ power," he whispered, chuckling. "I could hardly ask for more, but it is all useless if you can't survive the seal. I do have a good feeling about you, though. You won't let it take you." He bared his teeth in a hungry smile, the canines razor sharp, and sank them into Sasuke's uninjured wrist.

As Orochimaru drew back, the paralysis broke, but the agony spreading across Sasuke's left side dropped him to his knees.

"Come, Karin. Your part of this is done," he said, watching dispassionately as Sasuke writhed in the dirt for a few moments and then slipped into unconsciousness.

"Dosu and Zaku were... were..." she started, looking everywhere but at Sasuke's motionless body.

"I know. A pity they were not as careful as you. I have more business to attend to here, but I will not leave you without a bodyguard."

He close his teeth on his thumb and knelt. A banded snake as thick as a man's waist appeared coiled on the ground. "You will guide her to the tower and see she comes to no harm. Keep yourself hidden from the Konoha genin."

The snake drew itself up to incline its head in a reptilian bow.

"Thank you, Orochimaru-sama," the girl whispered in relief.

"But of course. You never fail me."

The girl and the snake turned in the direction of the tower that loomed over the forest. Orochimaru prodded Sasuke once with his sandal and was rewarded with a groan. He linked his hands in front of him and settled in to wait.

It wasn't long before a young man stepped out of the trees with an unconscious Gaara slung over his shoulder. Although he was very slender and only a hand-span taller than the boy he was carrying, the burden troubled him not at all. Like Orochimaru, he wore a dark coat adorned with curling clouds.

"We have a mission to complete here, you realize," the man said dryly. "When I promised to help you secure a sharingan for your new vessel, this is_ not _what I meant. If the Kyūbi's host discovers you had a hand in this boy's death—"

"But I _liked_ this one," Orochimaru said, prodding Sasuke one last time. "You worry too much. I modified the seal to go dormant once it's rooted in his chakra system—their medics aren't going to be able to find it. If he dies, well, there are a tremendous number of venomous snakes in this forest. It would be one less bond to hold my target to Konoha when the time comes."

The redheaded man accepted the explanation with a cock of his head. He slung Gaara from his shoulder and arranged him on the ground. "Is he likely to die of this without treatment? It's a Water Country poison; I don't know it," he said, and pushed aside Gaara's sleeve to reveal a shallow cut. The edges had already knitted together, but the flesh was inflamed and a foreboding purple in patches.

"Jinchūriki are durable; his bijū will reverse the tissue damage shortly," Orochimaru pronounced, after a brief examination. He swept aside a lock of Gaara's hair to reveal the scar carved above the left side of brow. "He is an odd-looking little beast, isn't he," he commented, pausing to snicker at his own joke and then shooting a sly glance toward his partner. "I don't remember many redheads in Suna. I never asked… is that your real face, or did you take some artistic license with the carving? Aside from the eyes, the resemblance is quite uncanny."

"What exactly are you implying? I left Sunagakure years before he was born."

"Nothing much. My, my, Sasori-kun, aren't we sour today," Orochimaru answered with a raspy laugh.

"His condition still presents a slight problem," Sasori said, ignoring the jibes. "How do you plan to use your gift of ensnaring the trust of broken children _while he is unconscious_? You were supposed to be supervising them while I met with my contact in their Medical Corps."

"My apologies," Orochimaru said mockingly. "I find this place distracting. So many fond memories."

"Don't tell me you suffered a sudden burst of nostalgia and had to check up on your protégé?" Sasori asked.

"Hardly. Jiraiya and Tsunade had protégés. I had a lab rat."

Sasori looked back to Gaara. "My spies in Suna have reported his mental state to be extremely unstable. If we were simply to spirit him away without an explanation, his reaction to waking up with two missing-nin he has never seen before is sure to be poor. And by poor, I mean he is very likely to allow Shukaku free reign to kill us, which until you secure a new vessel could be an issue."

"You worry too much. We can ambush them on their way back to Wind Country. Hardly a major setback. Bring him farther north along the bank and I can lead his team up to find him again. They were in rather poor shape, so they might need some babysitting."

Sasori rolled his eyes. "If we must, we must, although squashing these ants bores me. We shouldn't linger too long here."

Orochimaru spared one last, hungry glance back at Sasuke. "I don't think it's necessary to trouble our dear leader with this detail, do you?" he asked. "I still fully intend to help you settle that grudge you've been nursing against the Kazekage, if an opportunity were to present itself. I would even go so far as to help you create that opportunity."

"Hm," Sasori grunted. "Taking one's revenge on a kage does tend to require a bit of assistance here and there, and I am sure _you _will thoroughly enjoy any chaos you manage to sow."

"I wouldn't have volunteered if I didn't think it was going to be fun."

"Our little secret, then," Sasori said, with a blank and unsettling quirk of his lips. "I may have mentioned this before, but I really do like the way you think."

-ooo-

Teams Seven and Eight had limped their way as far downstream as they could manage, breaking away from the river to make it less likely they would be spotted by any other teams. Hinata's eyes didn't encounter any trace of Sasuke, but she did find them a natural roof beneath the roots of a fig tree, large enough for three people to lay down under and with plenty of cover for the guards.

Naruto blew out a forlorn sigh and let Shino's arm slip off his shoulders, who almost immediately folded down on the cushion of grass. Even their slow pace had left him panting with exertion. "Why do we have to stop _now_?" Naruto asked.

"Because I–" Shino said, and stopped to sniff. When he brought his fingers to his nose they came away smeared with blood. "This seems… ominous," he murmured.

Sakura glanced at his bloody face and her lips drew back in worry. "Could you move your coat out of the way?" Sakura asked him. "I need to check the dressing."

Shino complied, and Sakura gasped–the amounts the cut on his thigh were leaking had gone from unusual to unlikely to absurd. The blood had soaked through the bandages and then fabric of his pants, and showed no signs of stopping. Sakura fished more gauze out of her pack and wrapped the injury again, as tightly as she dared.

"Did I not bind it right?" Hinata asked, mortified. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, Hinata, the job was fine," Sakura assured her. "It should've closed by now; this wasn't your fault."

Sakura flipped quickly through the mental files from her Academy days—the units on anatomy and physiology had been among her favorite subjects. "I think the blade was treated with some kind of hemotoxin," she explained. "Some of them disrupt clotting factors so victims bleed out from what should have been minor injuries. I don't suppose your bugs could...?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "My father's colony can neutralize some poisons, but the specialized breed is very delicate and difficult to control. It isn't given to Aburame genin not in the medical track."

"Shino…" she began quietly, "if you keep moving I'm afraid you might bleed to death."

He took a long breath in and a long breath out, and in an almost painfully even voice, said: "I find this information distressing."

Kiba bent over Sakura's shoulder, wincing at the way it compressed his injured ribs, and whispered behind his cupped hand. "I think that's Shino-speak for 'I'm scared shitless I'm gonna die'," he translated.

"That isn't what I said," Sakura shot back. "Kiba, get out of my face, you're not helping. Healing this is going to be tricky with so many of the platelets in his blood destroyed, but if I have an hour or so to concentrate I think I can do it. Theoretically."

"We don't _have_ an hour," Naruto put in. "Gaara probably broke Sasuke's right hand. He can't make handsigns. He can't even hold a kunai. If someone or something finds him he's screwed, and I can't just stand around while–"

"I am not suggesting you do," Shino said. "My insects have not had any luck locating the scent. The one I tagged him with was almost certainly washed off in the flood or drowned. While I do not want to split up considering Kiba and I are too seriously injured to adequately defend ourselves, I see no other option if we want to find Sasuke before morning. Hinata, are you certain the Suna team is not a threat to us?"

She nodded. "They're along the river, on the opposite bank. They're barely well enough to walk and in no shape for another fight."

"You and Naruto backtrack to the river to sweep for Sasuke," Shino ordered Hinata. He looked to Kiba. "Would Akamaru be willing to accompany them?

The dog nodded his head yes and trotted over to sit at attention next to Hinata's ankles, his tail swishing in the grass.

"Guess that's a yes," Kiba said. "Leaving Sasuke out there injured and alone doesn't feel right to us either. He might be kind of a dick, but he's _our _dick."

"Keep radio contact," Shino told Naruto. "If you do not find your brother before dawn, return here, and avoid all other genin cells. To risk sacrificing two more team members to save one is not a logical course of action."

"No promises," Naruto said. "You managed to take down those two from Suna without losing anyone, so as weird as you are, you're not a bad captain–I admit it." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned over Shino. "But where Sasuke is concerned you can take your logical courses of action and shove them up your butthole… sir."

Shino, as usual, didn't dignify this with any comment.

While the orders were being settled, Hinata's cheeks had gone progressively pinker and pinker, although it was so dark no one else noticed. "I-I don't know if I can..."

"Your injuries were minor, were they not?" Shino asked.

"Yes, but..."

"And you have not begun experiencing the symptoms of overusing your byakugan?"

"No, but..."

"Then I am confident you will be able to find Sasuke."

-ooo-

Although Akamaru had not yet mastered the ability to speak human language, the puppy's guidance proved to be invaluable. He kept his nose to the leaf mould and his ears perked as they carefully made their way back to the river. He could pick apart the tapestry of sound created by both their enemies and the unseen creatures scuttling about their lives. Most of all, the paths of criss-crossing scents let him read the pitch black surroundings like a map.

Most of the animals in the training ground weren't dangerous unless provoked, and several times Akamaru made wide detours around trees and thickets that looked the same as any other. After Naruto nearly got a faceful of corrosive mist after annoying a cranky-looking black beetle the size of his fist, he did at least manage a word of thanks to their canine guide.

"Can't you go any faster?" Naruto asked urgently, as they went creeping along the crumbling, muddy riverbank.

Akamaru cocked his head quizzically, then turned back to the invisible trail he was following. It took him up a tree root and down again, around a boulder, and in a complex zig-zag around a clump of toadstools.

"So was that a no?" Naruto prodded.

Akamaru looked down his muzzle at Naruto and made a noise halfway between a groan and a sneeze.

"I-I think he's just trying to be careful," Hinata mumbled. "If he were to miss something it would take us even longer to find Sasuke, and I don't want to leave… um…"

Naruto paused to judge a leap over the slippery rocks. "Hinata… if you didn't want to come help me, why did you?" he asked, grabbing a sapling to steady himself after the landing. He turned back to offer Hinata a hand over the same gap. "That's why you're being so quiet, right? You're worried about Shino and Kiba? You don't have to be. I promise Sakura-chan's taking good care of them."

Hinata drew her hands back against her coat and tried nonchalantly to rub her sweaty palms dry on the fabric, unwilling to put them in his.

"Did I say something wrong?" Naruto asked.

"I..."

"Naruto-kun, you... I..." she swallowed convulsively. She ducked her head and brushed past him, only exhaling once her back was to him. "I-I should concentrate on searching for Sasuke-san."

"You're totally right. I talk too much. Zip it up. Got it."

Hinata stayed in the lead as they continued in silence. She kept her byakugan activated and did not once turn around.

Naruto followed gamely after her. Thinking about all the horrible things that could have happened to Sasuke made the space under his breastbone ache. Sasuke was a strong swimmer and a strong fighter, but the river in spring, its waters high and wily with melting ice, was a dangerous adversary. Unable to secure a foothold on the turgid waters, even jōnin had drowned in it.

The present company wasn't doing much to shake loose the gristly possibilities. The Hyūga heiress, as far as he could tell, had never really liked him. In the Academy, she had a habit of turning strange colors and scuttling away whenever he opened his mouth in her presence. She avoided sparring with him. She would never sit near him at lunch, instead opting to huddle in a corner of the classroom with her hood up and cast him funny looks under the brim.

The only conclusion Naruto could draw from all this was that Hinata thought he smelled and was too polite to say it to his face.

It would explain why she usually looked like she was about to faint whenever the possibility loomed that she might have to touch him. He scrubbed his hands as clean as he could on his pants, and was about to take a surreptitious sniff of his jacket when he remembered she could see everything he was doing straight through the back of her head.

Hinata suddenly stopped short.

"What?" Naruto said to the back of her hood.

"I found Sasuke-san," she whispered. "About four hundred meters to the east. He's unconscious."

Naruto slapped his hand onto the switch at his neck to open the radio channel. "Hey Shino, you were right. Hinata did it."

It was Sakura's voice that came pouring through the earpiece instead. "You did? Is he okay? I... sorry, I made Shino give me the radio while he got some sleep—I managed to close the wound, but he's lost a lot of blood and isn't doing that great. He made me promise to tell you 'not to do anything you will regret while unsupervised'."

"Sasuke's out cold, but still alive," Naruto passed on. "We're bringing him back to camp. Search team out." He dropped his hand to his side and gave Hinata an encouraging smile, who'd finally deigned to peer at him around the pile of fabric that made up her hood. "Sakura says Shino says don't do anything dumb. Ready?"

"Mm."

Naruto forced himself not to sprint forward as Akamaru stealthily followed the winding track of Sasuke's lingering scent, ever mindful of an ambush.

"Can you smell anyone around?" Hinata asked the puppy. "Are they still here?"

Akamaru nodded an affirmative to the first question and a negative to the second, urging them forward with a small yip. The scent trail ended in a small clearing with a rotting tree stump in the center. The phosphorescent mushrooms sprouting from the soft wood of the trunk cast an unearthly glow over the body curled up beside it.

"Sasuke...?" Naruto whispered, breaking cover to run to his brother's side. He almost cried out with relief when he felt a pulse still pounding in his neck. It was far too fast, and his face was damp and flushed with fever, but he was alive. He pulled Sasuke onto his back and tried gently shaking him awake, to little effect. He groaned and his eyelids fluttered half-open for a moment. Then he became unresponsive once more.

"He's burning hot," Hinata said apprehensively, brushing her fingers across his upper arm. Her brows furrowed. "And th-there's something wrong with his chakra system."

"Wrong? Wrong how?"

Hinata pushed aside the stained cloth bracer to reveal two puncture marks on his wrist. They were clotted with dried blood. "When someone is sick, their chakra flows differently. Their energy goes to fighting the infection. But this... it's almost like... like the infection is _in_ his chakra pathways, spreading out from this. I-I've never seen anything like it before."

"We'll figure it out later," Naruto said. "Help me get him up?"

With Hinata's help, Naruto managed to arrange Sasuke's inert form across his shoulders. His thighs were aching before they'd halfway returned to camp, and his brother showed no signs of awakening. They returned to their chosen fig tree unmolested, thanks to Hinata's guidance. Sakura let out a cry and ran to them when they emerged from the brush, helping Naruto ease Sasuke down to the ground.

"Hinata said he was poisoned. Is there anything you can do for him?" Naruto asked her.

"Snakebite?" Sakura whispered to herself. She chewed on her lip. "Not really. Without knowing what bit him, all I can do is try to bring the fever down and hope he comes around."

-ooo-

Sakura put the wet rag aside and rubbed her eyes. She'd fallen asleep with it clenched against her chest, and now there was a damp patch on the shoulder of her dress. She rolled over and pushed herself up to her elbows. The canvas they'd thrown over the root structure made for a cramped and uncomfortable tent, but it had kept off the worst of the rain after the sky opened up in the early hours of the morning. Naruto was still asleep, curled up in a miserable ball on Sasuke's other side.

The two holes at his wrist had been cleaned and dressed to the best of her ability, but there was little she could do for the raging fever beyond damp cloths and prayer. Nothing in his condition had changed. His temperature was still dangerously high, and he thrashed and groaned in his sleep as if caught in an unending nightmare.

Outside the curtain of vines and roots, Team Eight was having a very heated discussion in muffled whispers. Sakura paused before sitting up fully, listening with her breath held tight.

"I-I don't care how logical it is, I'm not leaving Naruto-kun," Hinata said forcefully. "None of their team can detect an ambush like I can."

"We have the scrolls we require and Team Seven is out of immediate danger," Shino pointed out. "If Sasuke does not regain consciousness soon, we will all forfeit our chances of reaching the third round. The longer we wait, the more difficult breaking through at the tower is likely to be."

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you both, I promise."

There was a rustling of cloth as Shino shifted his weight against the treetrunk. "My personal desire to pass the test is not the reason I have suggested this. My parents would likewise be disappointed, but I believe they would understand the circumstances under which I chose to deliberately fail. I am not so sure that would apply to your father. In truth, it is _you_ who are sacrificing a great deal more than myself or Kiba."

"I overheard you talking with Kurenai-sensei," Kiba said, sounding miserable. "This is your whole future on the line, not just a stupid promotion. If you lose the position to Hanabi—"

"It wouldn't matter," Hinata murmured. Her voice was flat, resigned. "She's better than I am—it's going to happen sometime. Everyone thinks she ought to lead the Hyūga after my father is gone."

A sniff, from Shino. "In the interest of accuracy, you should note that _I_ do not," he said. "You are thirteen years old and it is my understanding that Hyūga-sama is in excellent health. It is possible—even probable—that you would gain the skill, confidence, and wisdom necessary become Clan Head long before he would have to relinquish the position to you."

"I think so too," Kiba said. "I don't really know how to say this without being really rude... so I'm going to be really rude. Your dad's an asshole. All he does is tell you you're weak and worthless, but—"

"_Kiba_!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know you're supposed to respect your elders and everything, but he doesn't respect _you_! Not even a little! So what if your little sister is better in the ring? You're smart and determined and you care about your clan more than anything. I'm starting to be able to beat my sister when we spar, and nobody thinks she shouldn't be in line to head the Inuzuka. She's a great veterinarian and people respect her for what she _can _do, not smack her down for what she can't."

"Hana-san isn't like me," Hinata whispered. "I'm not good at anything else, either, so I've already decided. It'll be better for the Hyūga this way."

Kiba sighed. "Did you even _ask_ Hanabi what she thought about this mess? You practically raised her since your mom got sick, so what makes you think she's okay with how—"

"It's. _Better_," Hinata insisted. Her voice was crackling like ice in the spring thaw, threatening at any moment to allow the tears to seep through the fractures.

"Hinata, you're…" Kiba murmured gently. "All right. Fine. Have it your way. But if you need somewhere to crash after we do get out of here, you know you're always welcome at my place."

"T-thank you, both of you. If we don't make it by the time limit, we try again in six months."

Sakura deliberately kicked over the empty water bottle near her feet as she rose and ducked out of the hollow. Naruto started at the noise and sat up, knocking his head against a root.

"Ouch," he said loudly, rubbing at the newly minted bruise on his forehead.

Team Eight's conversation broke off abruptly as Naruto scooted out of their makeshift tent. Hinata started and began blinking furiously, her face downcast. The three of them were crouched in a tight circle on a patch of bare ground–lighting a fire to chase away the chill was too dangerous. Akamaru held watch on a downed branch with his ears perked and his nose high to the breeze. Dawn was breaking over the Hokage's mountain, though little of the light had filtered down to the forest floor.

"Good m-morning," Hinata said. She pushed forward a container of high-energy trail mix and the least offensive flavor of protein bar. "It's the best I could manage for breakfast. Is Sasuke-san any better?"

"Did you save this one for me?" Naruto asked quizzically, unwrapping Hinata's offering.

She nodded.

Sakura helped herself to a handful of the dried fruit and nuts. "Not that I could see," she said, chewing the tart, salty mixture without relish. "He's still delirious. What about you guys?"

Kiba looked down at his belly. "Rib's still busted. Doesn't hurt as much, though. Thanks."

"I believe I have recovered somewhat as well," Shino said. "Although Akamaru and Hinata noticed something strange while they were patrolling. Do you both find it odd we have not been attacked once since we set up camp here? Three of our members are injured, and by appearances we are two of the weakest teams and hence the most tempting targets."

"I thought we were just lucky, and what do you mean 'strange'?" Naruto asked.

"There's somebody... some_thing_ out there," Kiba explained. "Akamaru found a dead Konoha genin with a single senbon through his throat, and his teammates dead a few dozen meters away without a scratch on them. There was a really strange cluster of scents around them... almost like a weapons shop—steel, machine oil, wood, and glue–and a lot of something sort of bitter-medicinally, too. For a second I thought it might've been that guy's puppet from Suna, but puppets have puppetmasters, and Akamaru said there wasn't another human scent anywhere but those other poor bastards that had already bitten it. It was all over the clearing where you found Sasuke, too."

"I saw him for a second," Hinata said in a near-whisper. "Mostly he kept out of my range. He looked human, b-but... wasn't. His body is made of wood and metal, but there's still chakra running through it somehow. Most of it's tangled up in a ball in his chest. On the outside he looked like a teenager, maybe a little older than us, wearing a dark coat with a high collar. I didn't remember seeing him in the written examina... Sakura-san, is something wrong?"

"He's wearing... could you tell if his coat has a pattern of red clouds on it?" Sakura asked, breathless.

"If I keep my byakugan going for too long things start to get fuzzy, but...yes, now that you mention it, I think they were clouds. Why?"

"Hinata…" Naruto said. "Is the Suna team is where we left them? Are they still alive? Is Gaara with them?"

She reactivated her byakugan and searched for a few moments. "Yes. They found him. The girl is keeping watch, but it doesn't look like anyone bothered them last night either." She grit her teeth, trying to milk a few more meters out of her range. "There's another team of dead genin near them, too."

"You can't be serious," Naruto murmured. "How'd they get _in_ here? Shouldn't the Interception Team have…?"

"They didn't the day Iruka-sensei died, either," Sakura pointed out. "We need to get a message to the Hokage. It could be connected, and if it is–the entire village's security system has been compromised. Once was a fluke. Twice is a conspiracy. Someone is definitely after Sasuke."

"Yeah," Naruto said, and turned away from the rest of the group. "That's what it looks like, doesn't it."

"I can do it," Shino offered, reaching into his belt pouch and withdrawing a minuscule scroll case. It was fashioned from a slice of reed, covered with loops of thread, and came bundled with a short pen with a minuscule nib. "My kikaichu can take it to my father."

"How about: Tell Hokage. Akatsuki in village. Critical threat," Sakura said. "Would that fit?"

Shino uncapped the case and carefully printed the message on the curl of paper stowed inside. "It does." He screwed the lid back on and allowed a few off the beetles to lift the precious message from his outstretched palm.

"You're sure he'll really take it to the Hokage?" Naruto said, as the beetles and their cargo disappeared between the shadows of the trees. "The release forms said we weren't supposed to send out any messages."

"I do not exaggerate, and he trusts my judgment," Shino said. "If I say there is a critical threat to the village, he will assume there is until proven otherwise."

Sakura looked away. "I wish my parents trusted me like that."

"Most of the village thinks we Aburame are strange, even wholly without feeling, for the strictly rational way in which we strive to interact with each other," Shino said, and added, tilting his head slightly towards Hinata. "What _I _find strange is how much pain my comrades endure because their families do _not_ do so."

-ooo-

It was Naruto's watch. No change. Their guardian angel in Akatsuki had piled up a significant number of corpses at the perimeter of their camp. Most of them had been from Konoha, which made Naruto's stomach twist uncomfortably. But he was far too skilled to reveal himself, and a 'thanks but no thanks' simply would not have sufficed. The day was cold, dewy, and unpleasant, numbing fingers and toes and setting their teeth to chattering.

All that could be done was wait. Wait and think. They were both activities Naruto did not find comfortable.

Mei Terumï had warned him–they would meet again. Was that to be this soon? What did Akatsuki _want_ from him? If it was only the demons he and Gaara held locked inside their bodies, why not take them both now, by force, when separated from the powerful shinobi that would move to defend them? Were they behind the abduction attempt on Sasuke and therefore responsible for Iruka's death?

If they were, he felt he ought to hate them. That made them the enemy.

That was how it worked, wasn't it? There was a circle drawn around the Us–his fellow genin and their teachers, his family, his clan… the whole village. Everyone outside the circle was the Them–foreigners, criminals, missing-nin. Inside the circle was the right side. The Good Guys. _Everyone_ knew that.

Akatsuki's client on that mission to the western mountains had been a drug smuggler of the most vile sort. Who knows how many lives would have been destroyed by those intoxicating seeds if they'd completed it? It was _evil_. The whole thing was evil.

And yet, the members of Akatsuki he had met had been honorable, even merciful. They were reluctant to take lives. They cared for their own teammates no less than any follower of the Will of Fire. And after learning about the horror that was the Kirigakure graduation exam, he had a hard time blaming them for fighting the current Mizukage or fleeing from his reach when they'd lost.

It wasn't as though Konoha was above _those _sorts of mission, either. There had been days, when Itachi had still been in ANBU, that he returned home enveloped in a heavy cloud of silence and shame. He spent long sleepless nights talking to their parents or Kakashi in the study, and never let a word of those conversations leak around the screen where curious young ears could snatch them. He hadn't understood then, but now….

Naruto pinched his arm, hard, trying to shake off the boredom and anxiety and fatigue that had sent his mind wandering on watch.

The sun continued tracing its lazy arc through the clouds, its light as unsatisfying as weakly brewed tea. He was still stewing in confusion and worry when Kiba's voice snapped his attention back to the situation at hand.

"Company!" he whispered through the microphone. "Four o'clock. Sounds like they've got dogs... but there aren't any other Inuzuka testing besides me. Must be ninken from another village."

Naruto held his breath and concentrated for a moment. "Yeah. I hear it. Sakura-chan and Hinata and I'll take them," he said. "Don't get yourself any more messed up than you already are."

Ducking into their makeshift tent, Naruto roused the other members of the team. Hinata scrubbed the sleep from her eyes and activated her byakugan.

"It…" she began, cocking her head. Then she released the dōjutsu and heaved an enormous sigh of relief. "It looks like Shino's message got through. It's a chūnin medical team."

A few moments later, an enormous, ash-and-cream Akita Inu came crashing through the underbrush, a woman in Konoha green hot on his heels. She ignored the genin's nest under the fig tree entirely and dove into the thicket where Kiba was crouched in hiding, and instead of the clash of weapons he heard Kiba say: "Nee-chan? What are you... Yeah, I'm fine, just don't hug_aaaaah–stop, stop that hurts_!"

Another man, also in Konoha green and accompanied by a dog almost identical to the first, arrived shortly after. His milky, pupil-less eyes and the cloth wrapped tightly around his forehead identified him as a member of the Hyūga Branch House.

Hinata finished untangling herself from the roots and branches and went to greet him. Shino and Sakura ducked out as soon as she was free.

"Kaito-san?" she asked incredulously. "Did my father ask you here? I don't want you to get in trouble with the Hokage for breaking the test rules."

"It's all right, we're here on the Hokage's order," the older Hyūga explained. "When he received your message, someone convinced him to suspend the Exams and send teams in to corner the infiltrators. Uchiha-sama asked us to keep an eye out for Team Seven as a personal favor, so I can guess who did most of the persuading. She's so good at it, it's almost frightening."

"So my father didn't send…?"

Kaito bowed his head. "No, Hinata-sama. He may have been given another assignment, I'm not… I should really see to Sasuke-kun." He paced forward and frowned. "Um… Hana? Hana, really, _stop_ that, it's just a rib fracture. I can fix him up back at the hospital. Would you report in while I assess the other patients?"

Hana reluctantly stopped fussing over the massive bruise on her younger brother's torso and activated her microphone. Kaito bent under the canvas to lift the unconscious Sasuke out of the roots and laid him out where the light was stronger. Naruto folded down on his knees on the other side, feeling like he was in the way but reluctant to be anywhere else.

"Captain?" Hana said. "We found them. Teams Seven and Eight were together." She paused with her hand on the mike, listening, and then smiled briefly at Shino. "Yes, sir. Your son looks like he's going to be just fine."

"My father is here?" Shino asked.

"He's captaining our team and on his way," Hana said. "Since you can sort of walk I'm going to assume all that dried blood on your pants is much worse than it looks."

"Yeah, Sakura patched him up last night," Kiba said, from the ground where his sister's pack was licking him with enthusiasm. "Is she ever handy to have around."

"The blade was poisoned–some kind of anticoagulant. It took me a while, but I did finally seal off all the severed blood vessels. Oh, and I saved one of the kunai so you can take a sample to the lab for analysis." Sakura extracted one of Kankurō's ringless knives from her belt pouch, which she'd wrapped carefully in a long leaf and many turns of wire.

Hana accepted the leaf-wrapped blade and gave Sakura an appraising look. "How long have you been doing this?"

"You mean since I started training as a field medic? Um," she stopped to count back, "just under six months, I think."

"Wait," Hana said, raising her palms to Sakura in disbelief. "You mean you _started studying_ medicine six months…?"

A pair of Aburame appeared at the perimeter of the rude camp, interrupting her. The final triplet, matching the other two dogs that were currently clustered around Kiba, arrived with them.

"Shimazen!" Kaito called to his Aburame teammate. "This is your department—looks like he's been poisoned. The only injuries are a lot of superficial contusions, a sprained wrist, and this puncture wound on his arm. There's not much I can do for him."

The older of the pair stopped beside Shino. Aside from the addition of a thin mustache and some crinkles around his mouth, they were almost identical–even the two pairs of hands stuffed into two pairs of pockets.

"Your injury is not severe?" he asked.

"No, Otō-san," Shino said.

"I am relieved."

Kiba wiped a large quantity of dog drool off his hands and whispered to one to one of them: "If you were ever wondering Shino gets it all from…"

Shimazen joined the other medic at Sasuke's side and removed his dark glasses, tucking them into one of the many pockets adorning his coat. He peeled back Sakura's bandage to examine the mark, then began taking his vital signs. "What are his symptoms? How long has he been unconscious?" he asked the genin.

"When we found him he was already out; that was last night," Naruto said. "The only thing wrong with him is that he's feverish and won't wake up."

"_Nothing_ else? No easy bruising, difficulty breathing, blue tint to the lips or extremities, vomiting, seizures?"

Naruto shook his head. "There's been someone with him all the time since I brought him back to camp. We didn't see anything like that."

"And what's this mark at the bite location?" Shimazen murmured. "This doesn't make any.…"

"What's wrong?" Kaito asked. "Can't you give him the antivenin?"

"No, I can't. That is the entire problem. I am familiar with every venomous snake native to this area, and his symptoms don't match any of them. Judging by the distance between the puncture marks, the creature itself would have to have been about a two or three meters long. The only species whose venom could produce an effect even remotely similar doesn't grow much longer than my forearm. And.…"

"And what?" Kaito prompted.

"The faint bruises between the puncture wounds," he whispered. "It sounds patently ridiculous, but what they almost look like to me is _human_ dentition. Which is—"

"Crazy, considering it's more likely some sort of summon that bit him, and that the species doesn't really matter since bringing his fever down _does_," Kaito interrupted. "You can obsess over the toxicological details once he's safely tucked into a bed in the ICU."

"Or a summon," Shimazen added a touch sheepishly. "That does make more sense."

Kaito pulled a roll of paper from the pouch on his back and unfurled it, laying the epicenter of an elaborate seal over Sasuke's forehead. A circle in the center went from red to green.

"We're still in transport range. Good. Hana, take the other pole. Receiving bay is clear." He pulled himself sideways to lay his hands on the stylized outlines of two outstretched palms. Hana crouched and did the same on the opposite side. "On three, two, one…"

The black symbols on the paper flashed violet, and the paper fluttered as Sasuke disappeared. "Who's next?"

Shibi extracted a hand from his pocket and offered it downward.

"I am capable of walking back," Shino said.

"I can see that, but that does not mean you should," he said. He knelt and pulled Shino up with a hand under his shoulder. "Let the medics do their jobs."

Limping forward, Shino reluctantly let himself be arranged under the long strip of paper, and the two medic-nin repeated the procedure. Hana looked up at the pile of dogs (and Kiba) and cleared her throat.

"Me?" Kiba said. "Naw, I'm fi–"

"Kiba, shut up and get your ass on the grass," Hana ordered. "We're still inside the most dangerous training ground in Konoha. If something worse were to happen to you on the way out Ka-chan would rip me a new one."

The dog with a faint scar across its muzzle laughed. "Truer words were never spoken," he said. "We'll bring Akamaru to visit you if you're admitted, but I doubt they'll be keeping you long." He shoved Kiba forward with his shaggy head. Sighing, the boy got up to do as his elder sister asked.

With the wounded seen to, Shibi brought his hand to the radio at his neck. "This is Aburame Shibi to all squad captains. I have located teams Seven and Eight." He paused to listen to the radio chatter for a moment, then said: "Yes. Their targets may have been your sons. The medical team has already transported Sasuke to the hospital. You can meet him there."

-ooo-

The first thing Sasuke noticed was how deliciously warm and dry he was, which was ruined as he realized there were tubes in places it was unspeakably uncomfortable for tubes to be.

Itachi was sitting in the chair next to his bed, doing paperwork on a clipboard perched on his crossed legs. The pen stopped its steady march down the paper, and he looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, and the perpetual shadows beneath them much darker than usual, as if he hadn't slept in days. Sasuke had only seen this look directed at him once before. It had been in the hospital that first time, too, when a nasty cold had somehow turned into pneumonia and his temperature had shot up so high the nurses had looked like they were melting. When he'd finally come out of it, he'd awoken to the same face. It was the only time in his life he could recall Itachi looking frightened.

He tossed the papers on the table and shifted to the bed. "I think your fever's finally broken," his brother said, briefly pressing his hand against Sasuke's forehead and cheeks. "How are you feeling?"

Sasuke pushed himself up, blinking his gritty eyes. There were wires trailing off the bed, hooked into various machines that contributed a sickly greenish glow to the incandescent lights illuminating the room. He knew _exactly_ where he was now—the intensive care unit at Konoha hospital. He'd spent long enough here, waiting for his mother to awaken after her battle with Madara. The bare white walls still filled him with dread.

"Okay, I guess," he said. "Thirsty?"

Itachi rose to fill a plastic cup with water and handed it to him. "Slowly, or you'll make yourself sick."

He raised the cup toward his lips and winced at the sharp pains in both wrists. He glanced at his left hand. "I remember how I sprained the right one, but…."

"You were... poisoned. You don't remember?"

"No," Sasuke answered, taking a quick bodily inventory. Aside from the generally weak, shaky feeling that accompanied severe chakra drain, and the stabbing pain in his wrists, nothing hurt worse than it had before he'd been knocked out. "I remember fighting Suigetsu, but after the Suna team showed up I got separated from Naruto and Sakura. After that it's just... nightmares." He drained the cup in smalls sips and handed it to Itachi to place on the bedside table.

The door opened to reveal Naruto clutching two cans of soda in his fingers, which he immediately dropped on the floor to pounce on Sasuke for a back-cracking hug. He managed to dislodge the cardiac monitor lead that Sasuke had conscientiously refrained from pulling off, sending the machine into a fit of frantic beeping. Sasuke was too shocked to react at first, but when Naruto didn't let him go, he attempted to work his elbow into Naruto's face to peel him off. "What the hell? Get off me!"

As soon as Naruto did, Sakura graced him with a hug of her own, complete with welling eyes and sniffling. Sakura he didn't try to push off, since he was now rather troubled that not one but_ two_ people had felt it necessary to give him a tearful embrace upon his waking up in a bed in the ICU.

"I don't feel that sick," Sasuke said, confused. "Why are you all fussing over me like this? It's not like I almost died or any... thing..." he said, trailing off at the stricken looks on the faces of his teammates.

"Your heart stopped," Naruto said, his voice unsteady. "Nobody could figure out what was wrong with you, and… and your _heart_ stopped."

The door opened again and a nurse poked her head in. "Whew... now that's what I want to see when one of my monitors starts pitching a fit," she said, smiling at the sight of her fully lucid patient sitting up in his bed. "Let me get that reset for you." She replaced the lead on his chest, then pushed a few buttons to quiet the machine. "The doctor will be in to check you over in a moment. Can I get you anything? Pain medication? Another blanket?"

"No, thanks," Sasuke said. "Doesn't hurt too bad. I'm fine."

After the nurse had left, Itachi gently pushed Sasuke back against the pillows.

"Alright, fine..." Sasuke began, glaring at the ceiling. "Does somebody want to tell me how I got here, what day it is, and why I feel so lousy? I figure we flunked, I'm just not sure _how_."

"We didn't flunk," Naruto said, pulling up a free chair and perching upon it backwards, his chin on his forearms. "The Exams were suspended."

"The exams were what? _Why_?" Sasuke asked, shooting upright.

Itachi extended his first two fingers and planted them between Sasuke's eyes. He sighed in annoyance, but let himself be lowered back down. "We suspect Akatsuki infiltrated the village," Itachi said. "As to what they were attempting to achieve here… I do not know, but I cannot imagine it would be to Konoha's benefit." He glanced briefly at Naruto, an unspoken message of caution for him alone. "The Hokage is recalling Jiraiya-sama—if there is anyone besides myself who could stand on equal footing with one of them, it would be him."

"What about finishing the tests?" Sasuke asked. "Are we just out of luck for the next six months?"

"Tenten-san said they might be resuming them in a few weeks in Sunagakure," Sakura volunteered. "She talks to _everybody_."

"Good. I've always wanted to see what that place was like," Sasuke said.

Itachi shook his head. "Absolutely not. The medics still have not identified what bit you and have been unable to isolate the toxin in your blood or tissue. The effects of poisons are not always instantaneous, nor readily apparent to medical diagnostics. If it has caused delayed organ damage and you have already left Konoha, you would almost certainly die."

"But we can't enter except in cells of three!" Naruto exclaimed. "This isn't _fair_."

"Leaving aside that you are expecting _anything_ in life to be fair..." Itachi said archly, "you can find a third member from among the other Konoha genin who have already seen their teammates promoted. It happens frequently and is perfectly acceptable to the exam proctors."

"Then we'd be saddled with a loser and Sasuke would be stuck as a genin for another six months, which is _stupid_ because he's better than both of us," Naruto muttered into his arms. He raised his head to look his teacher in the eye. "We're testing together."

"I cannot allow that," Itachi said. "Sasuke can use the time within the village as a training opportunity."

"So it's risky," Sasuke said crossly. "I'm a ninja. Risky is everything we _do_."

Itachi's fingers curled into the hospital sheets. "Sasuke," he said, quietly and with palpable intensity, "you nearly _died_."

His brother's concern had gone from touching to smothering, and from somewhere Sasuke mustered the energy to get angry. "But I didn't. How do you ever expect me to get stronger if I have to live my whole life wrapped in cottondown? You promised you'd stop doing this to me, and you haven't!"

"What are you talking about? Of course I want you to become a strong shinobi," Itachi whispered, taken aback.

"Right," Sasuke muttered. "Of course you do." He fixed his brother with a penetrating stare, his sharingan flaring. "You know the problem with being the best liar in Konoha? No one's going to believe you on the off chance you're actually telling the truth."

Itachi's expression remained perfectly level, as it always did. There was only the barest shuddering of the muscles in his throat, a disharmony in the steady rhythm of his breathing. Sasuke had never been able to scratch his brother once, in all the times they'd sparred together, but…

"I should tell Ka-san you're awake," he said, rising from the bed. "I doubt she's sleeping yet." He turned away and shut the door behind him.

"I should be going too," Sakura whispered, beginning to collect her things. "I'll be back when visiting hours open tomorrow. I'll bring you something to read." She paused at the doorframe, smiling wanly. "Good night."

Naruto sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you really think he..."

"He doesn't do it to you," Sasuke said. His head was starting to ache, and he was feeling childish but still deeply angry. "Before you came to live with us, it was all I could get out of him, and it only got a tiny bit better afterwards: 'not today, Sasuke', 'you're not ready, Sasuke', 'it's too dangerous, Sasuke'. After ten years of that, what am I supposed to think? He was an _ANBU captain_ when he was our age."

"Yeah," Naruto agreed. "He was. But I've never seen him look at you like that before. You might as well have gotten up and punched him in the gut."

Sasuke winced, briefly ashamed. "The only way I'm testing is if we go over his head. Can you ask the Hokage to override it? He never says no to you, not when it's something important."

"Okay. I'll try."

-ooo-

"Is Sasuke recovering well?" the Hokage asked Naruto, once they had been properly settled into the warm embrace of miso paste and roast pork. No matter how busy he was, if Naruto looked at him right somehow there was always _just_ enough time in his schedule to take a quick break at Ichihraku.

Naruto paused with an enormous mouthful of noodles halfway in and halfway out, resembling nothing so much as a very earnest cuttlefish. "That's why I want to talk to you," Naruto said, after sucking down the strays. "His wrist is still a little stiff, but other than that he's totally fine." He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "But Itachi-sensei isn't letting him reenter the Exams. By the time we'd actually have to leave I know Sasuke'll be back one-hundred percent."

"Ah."

"You can make anybody under your command to do anything you want, can't you?" Naruto asked. "Can you order Itachi-sensei to let him compete? It feels wrong to make him wait. He was the one who took charge of everything in the forest, and… I can't say I was _happy_ about it, but he did a really good job as captain. He ordered Sakura and Shino and Kiba and Hinata off the field when he realized none of them would be a match for Gaara. That order probably saved all of their lives. If that doesn't make him chūnin material, I don't know what does."

The Hokage put down his chopsticks and folded his hands on the counter. "I _can _order Itachi to do that, yes. But I do not think I will."

Naruto's face fell. "I'm not leaving Sasuke behind. I thought you would understand."

"Now, I never said you should. Naruto, if you still want to be the Rokudaime, listen closely, because this is important." He leaned in closer. "Any leader can order the soldiers under his command to do things they don't want to do. A _great_ leader doesn't have to."

"What do you mean?" Naruto whispered, delighted to be receiving this precious parcel of wisdom.

"It's something for which you have rather a gift, actually. If I were to order Itachi to allow Sasuke into the Exams, he would do it. He wouldn't even argue. But some part of him wouldn't understand why, and he would resent me for it, whether he realized it or not. As Hokage you must expect people to disagree with you, but to have your close advisors resent you can be poisonous, both to your friendships with them and for the village as a whole. However, if I make a carefully worded _request_, and explain my position, Itachi may very well decide to allow Sasuke into the Exams of his own free will."

Naruto screwed up his brows, thinking hard. "I don't get it," he announced, and lifted another enormous clump of noodles to his mouth.

The Hokage laughed his gravelly smoker's laugh. "Your understand more than you think… you understand without even trying."


	11. Chapter 11

**Beta Credits: **Lil' Dei Dei.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 11 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Itachi had been held hostage inside the video conference room for the last half an hour, and his dislike for the man on the monitor was growing by the minute. Although the Yondaime Kazekage did seem to genuinely care about the strength of his home village, he had made several questionable decisions to safeguard that strength. The multiple assassination attempts against his own youngest son sprang to mind, as did the method by which it was rumored he had disposed of the boy's unfaithful mother.<p>

The negotiations over the relocated Chūnin Exams were complete, and by now the man was practically glowing with triumph—Itachi could feel it through the screen. Sunagakure had been slipping in favor, many of the contracts going to the slightly-less expensive and larger Konoha. After the disaster in Training Ground Forty-Four, he had good reason to believe his village was going to be getting a lot of work very quickly.

"We've had our plans ready since the bids were submitted," the Kazekage said smoothly. "We'll have the course ready in a week. Twenty-four hours long, eight passes maximum."

"Agreed," the Hokage said wearily. "I look forward to judging the winners."

"As do I," he said, and the monitor went black.

"We're off the line, Hokage-sama," the camera operator called. He and his assistants unplugged the unwieldy machinery, collected the masses of cables, and wheeled it all back into storage.

The old man removed his hat and pressed his fingers against his eyes. "That was humiliating," he said, after the last of them had gone. "We'll lose clients over this debacle. At the very least, let your full team go to Suna. They've already gained themselves a measure of fame for surviving an S-Rank, and if they put forth a good showing in the tournament we may be able to win back a few scraps of the lords' confidence."

"Naruto got to you, didn't he," Itachi commented, where he had been watching from outside the camera's view.

"He put forth a very reasonable, if unrefined, argument. Sasuke is recovering exceptionally well–I went to visit him myself. I know how much you care for the boy, but at this point the chances of the poison having done undetectable damage are very low. His mission performance, not to mention his handling of the situation with Gaara, has been stellar. You are having second thoughts about recommending them for the Exams, aren't you."

Age may have sapped the strength of his muscles, but it had left his mind untouched. Itachi thought of himself as wise, but, after all, he could claim only nineteen years on this earth to the Hokage's seventy. If anyone could manage to sting him with an uncomfortable truth, it was expected that Hiruzen Sarutobi would do it.

Whether they liked it or not, Itachi's genin had become small–but not inconsequential–players in the field of international politics. Those taught by a kage always would. Although he himself had snapped the link between master and student, his own teacher having been executed during the Uchiha Rebellion, the expectation of his own genin remained. If he were killed at some future point, it was assumed one of them would eventually take the title of Rokudaime. Even as rookie genin, they were symbols of the village's strength, and symbols did no good if not on display.

Itachi exhaled down his vest front, chastened. "I simply don't… I don't want him to suffer like I suffered. The burdens Kakashi and I undertook at his age were not what any child should have had to bear."

"Canceling the Exams due to a security breach is not a decision that can be made lightly, and we must all accept the consequences," the Hokage said. "The Daimyo is furious and the village will be feeling the economic repercussions of this decision for years. The weakest among us may even have to go hungry, as they do now in Sunagakure. If we can save face, in any way at all, we need to take it."

"It wasn't simply about Sasuke's wellbeing, and you know that," Itachi said, straining to keep the snap out of his tone. "I would prefer to lose a few clients now than have Naruto fall into Akatsuki's hands… or Sasuke into Orochimaru's. If he does succeed in taking an Uchiha host, I am not entirely sure even _I_ could stop him. A mastered sharingan would be able to break all my genjutsu with a strong enough will behind it, even the most powerful."

"I know, I know, your mother said as much when Aburame Shibi delivered Sakura's message." The Hokage replaced his pointed hat and stood, motioning for Itachi to follow him into the hall and down to his private rooms. When the Hokage had locked the door behind him, the conversation resumed. "But we have no proof Orochimaru was even involved in this breach, or that he's allied himself with Akatsuki as you claim. That Sasuke was bitten by a snake could easily have been bad luck. The Forty-Fourth grounds are teeming with them, not to mention what any of the dozens of foreign genin could have summoned. I've had the man who treated Mitarashi Anko examine Sasuke himself, and he couldn't find any trace of foreign chakra."

"Perhaps he could not, but it would be equally foolish to dismiss this as coincidence."

"To be honest, I am not entirely convinced Akatsuki was here at all. If their objective was Gaara, they had ample opportunity to abduct him yet didn't take it. Danzo sat in on Hyūga Hinata's debriefing and passed on something rather troubling. It came out that she was operating on a sleep deficiency and had begun to exhibit symptoms of byakugan strain–chief among which is blurred vision. No one matching the physical description she gave us was seen fleeing the village, and the odd scents the Inuzuka and his partner detected could easily have been another genin puppeteer. There were three of them competing."

"You think I made the wrong call," Itachi said in a low voice. If today was to be the day for bringing uncomfortable truths into harsh daylight, so be it. "Sandaime-sama… may I speak frankly?"

"To me, I would hope you never do otherwise."

"Hinata's reliability as a witness is irrelevant. I _do not trust _Shimura Danzō. Now that you have selected someone as young as myself as Candidate Hokage, he has no hope of outliving his competition. He will be desperate. Have you forgotten there is someone inside Konoha who either has access to barrier nullification seals, or there are multiple members of the Interception Team in his pocket–probably both? I can think of only one man who would have the motivation and skills to obtain both of these things. If you ignore this problem until it comes to a head, you will be sacrificing the lives of who knows how many Konoha citizens… again."

The Hokage bowed his head, pursing his brows as if shaking off a spell of dizziness. "I would die before I repeated the same mistake. Until I spoke to Danzō myself, what you're saying had seemed so obvious, I don't know what I was thinking."

"Are you feeling all right? Do you need me to send for a medic?" Itachi asked.

He straightened and waved the concern away. "I am an old man, Itachi-kun. If this is the first crack in my wits, what I _need_ is for you to take this hat off of my hands as soon as possible. The faster your genin rise through the ranks the sooner this will happen." He turned away, to the wide windows set into one wall, and the tiled roofs and trees beneath. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, as was his habit. The tendons beneath his withered skin were trembling with tension.

"We graduated from the Academy together," the Hokage continued. "We won our flak jackets together. We fought through two wars together. You will have to forgive me, but it's hard to accept that he's allied himself with Konoha's enemies. He loathes Orochimaru more than any other person on earth. Root was founded specifically to hunt him down and execute him for his crimes… to correct _my_ mistakes. He would do anything for Konoha."

"Sir… I believe that is entirely the problem."

Silence. And then he said, "Itachi-kun, you're dismissed." His voice was heavy with defeat. "Have someone send for Morino Ibiki on your way out."

Itachi bowed deeply, as did his reflection in the glass. The Hokage did not turn around. Itachi shut the door behind him and made his way down to the bowels of the building himself. The ANBU Torture & Interrogation Force had their offices, interrogation chambers, and prison cells there, shut far away from the sunlight and the profuse greenery of the village streets. They were buried deep, on the same level as the sewers. Neither was something pleasant to contemplate, but necessary all the same.

Unlike most other shinobi they wore no flak jackets, instead donning gray cotton uniforms and dark coats. Quick access to their weapons wasn't usually a priority down here–at least not the steel ones. The walls were unadorned concrete and the lighting harsh electric bulbs that cast everything into deep shadow.

He approached what passed for a reception desk and the chūnin manning it looked up from his papers. His eyebrows lifted themselves over the rims of his glasses when he saw the identity of the visitor. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Is Ibiki-san available? I'd like to speak with him as soon as possible," Itachi said.

"He's in a session with prisoner right now, but you're welcome to wait in his office. Come with me, please. It shouldn't be long."

Itachi followed him to the cramped room and thought briefly about sitting in the padded chair in front of the desk, then decided against it. His instincts told him it would start pinching or poking in some mild yet maddening way were he to plant himself in it. Instead, he remained on his feet and idly scanned the bookshelves lining the wall. Most were scholarly works on psychology and anatomy, but not all. There was a scattering of history, philosophy, and art–even a few works of fiction. All the covers were worn. The head of ANBU T & I was very well read.

The chūnin receptionist was true to his word; Morino Ibiki strode in about five minutes later. His uniform was, as usual, spotless. Blood was rarely spilled in the interrogation rooms when he presided over the questioning. Such coarse tactics were not a usual part of his repertoire, and he was feared all the more for it.

"To what do I owe this visit?" he asked, sitting down in the chair opposite Itachi. He indicated Itachi sit as well, with an upraised hand.

Itachi linked his arms over his chest and did not accept the invitation. Before answering, his sharingan flickered alive. "I have a few questions for you," he said. "The first is whether or not you have complete loyalty to Hiruzen Sarutobi and myself as his chosen successor to the position of Hokage."

Ibiki smiled faintly, crinkling the scars that carved up his face. He met the crimson stare without flinching, fully conscious of the risk he took in doing so–looking Uchiha Itachi in the eye was not wise if you had anything to hide. "Being interrogated in my own office," he said mildly. "This is an interesting way to end the day, isn't it."

"Answer the question, please, Ibiki-san."

The unsettling smile faded away. "I do."

"Then my second question is this: do you completely and without reservation trust every man and woman currently serving in ANBU?"

Not one to betray himself, Ibiki's expression revealed no surprise at the grim question. "I do not. And I can only assume from the course of this conversation that you do not either."

After long moments, Itachi allowed his sharingan to drain away, satisfied by what he had seen. "The Hokage has an assignment for you. Please meet him in his private chambers as soon as possible. No one but you will remember that I was here. Discretion is of the utmost importance."

He allowed his voice to drop very low and moved closer to the desk, bracing his hand on the side. "I've heard Shimura Danzō has not been feeling well of late. The moment the Chūnin Exams conclude and the world's eyes are no longer upon us, he will be taking an extended leave of absence to convalesce–perhaps in one of the small seaside towns. Please see to it that he receives _expert_ attention while he is gone. It may very well be fatal."

"You're serious, aren't you," Ibiki said, a measure of shock finally creeping into his tone.

"Completely," Itachi said, and turned to leave. He slid open the door and paused on the frame as the older man caught his eyes one last time.

Ibiki gestured around him. "A pity they set you up in one of the assassination squads after you earned your mask. You would have been quite good at this."

-ooo-

Sasuke was just setting out four cups of tea on the living room table when Sakura arrived at the mansion door for the team meeting, panting. "Oh _thank you_," she breathed, once she'd pulled off her shoes and swept into the house. She picked up a cup and folded her hands around its warmth. Naruto smiled at her, his lips pressed against his own cup.

Sasuke took a sip and put down his own mug. "It's just tea," he said, giving her an odd look.

Itachi had chosen not to sit for the team meeting, but was standing next to the sofa with his arms resting over his chest. "Now that we are all here... I would like to announce that the second and third stages of the Chūnin Exams have been officially rescheduled to take place in Sunagakure, two weeks from now." He took a deep breath. The genin's ears perked. "The Hokage is depending on the strongest Konoha genin to put on a good show for our patrons, and for you to win back as much of their confidence as you can. The future well-being of the village depends on it. Sasuke, your physicians have already cleared you to participate, but you will be vulnerable to any abduction attempts while we are traveling."

Naruto nudged Sasuke under the table and gave him a thumbs-up.

"This means we will be taking the back roads to Suna and will not be traveling with the larger group of Konoha genin. Sasuke will be assigned an additional jōnin bodyguard, who the three of you are to obey absolutely. He is doing this as a personal favor to me, and I will not tolerate any behavior from you that makes his job any harder than it has to be."

"Who is it?" Sasuke asked.

"Hatake Kakashi."

Sasuke bit down hard on the complaints that arrived immediately on his tongue. His general impression of Kakashi was that of a lazy, washed-up, alcoholic pornography addict who, despite _years_ of requests to the contrary, still insisted on addressing him as 'Minitachi'. He had hit his peak somewhere in the Third Great War, and by most accounts had been meandering downhill every since. And Sasuke still couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone about how he'd gotten that single sharingan he kept hidden under his hitai-ate.

"Fat lot of help he's going to be," Sasuke murmured.

Itachi gave Sasuke a reproving look. "It is unlikely he could stand against Orochimaru, but there are no Konoha jōnin save myself, the remaining Sannin, and the Hokage who could. Kakashi is, however, more than capable of disposing of his subordinates.

"Rescheduling the Exams has caused a serious hit to Konoha's credibility, and I have a great many ruffled feathers to smooth before we leave. You three will be reassigned to teams as needed if I am not available to lead missions."

"Hey, Sensei... would you mind if I asked Team Eight if they wanted to come with us?" Naruto asked, tapping his fingers against the cup. "It'd be way more fun."

"As long as they are discrete, no, I suppose not–to travel with jōnin I _trust_ would be to our benefit. I'll ask Kurenai myself. Remember, the fewer people know how and when we are leaving, the safer all of you are. Naruto, you are not to discuss our route with anyone, even the other Uchiha or your former classmates. The security leak that cost your Academy instructor his life was never sealed off, despite the best efforts of our counterintelligence teams."

Pain welled up briefly on Naruto's face. "I won't. Lips are sealed."

"I need to get back to the Tower. Please try to do something constructive with your afternoon." Itachi left his untouched cup on the table, grabbed some papers he'd left on a sideboard, and ducked out of the room.

"Does constructive mean sparring?" Naruto asked after Itachi had left. "Because that was what I was planning to do anyway."

Sakura's cheeks pinched with a touch of guilt. "I promised my mom I'd finish helping her clean up today, and she wasn't feeling that great this morning. I'll catch up with you in a bit. Which area?"

"The private Uchiha grounds," Naruto said. "It's free, I checked."

"Okay," Sakura said, and rose. "Meet you there in an hour?" She jogged to the front door to pull on her sandals and was gone.

Sasuke drained his tea cup and collected them to bring back to the kitchen.

"Getting my shoes on," Naruto said, pushing himself up from the table. "I'll wait for you on the porch."

"Busy!" Sasuke called over the rushing of the tap, as he carefully rinsed each handmade piece. "Can't."

Naruto reversed direction, turning instead to duck under the curtains hanging on the kitchen's doorframe. "Sasuke… come _on_. I haven't asked you to go one-on-one in a long time."

Sasuke dried his hands on his shirt and shooed Naruto's pleading away with a wave of his hand. "Ask one of our neighbors or that Nara or something."

"I want to spar_,_ not play with Academy students, and it's pretty much impossible to unstick Shikamaru from in front of his shōgi board," Naruto said, following as Sasuke brushed past him and down the hall. He quickened his pace to catch up, grabbing Sasuke by the sleeve. "_Please_?"

Finally, he stopped. "Why are you so determined to spar with me _right now_?" Sasuke asked, narrowing his eyes in faint suspicion.

"Because you're my brother?" Naruto said, looking hurt. "Am I supposed to need a better reason? Okay... I got you into the second stage of the Exams. Cashing in the favor."

"Fine," Sasuke sighed. "Just a few sets."

-ooo-

After both Sasuke and Naruto had mastered their first ninjutsu and sparring in the house became a serious structural liability, the private Uchiha grounds were their favorite place to train. In sight of the babbling river, they were fenced with stones rather than wood or wire to contain the errant katon jutsu. The ground was of powdery dirt that always smelled of ashes.

Naruto peeled himself off the ground for the third time and batted at the bits of his hair that were still smoldering. The inside of his mouth tasted like charcoal and blood. It was true Sasuke did win _most _of their practice matches, at least when he was using the sharingan, but it wasn't usually by this wide a margin.

He'd hoped a good fight might drain off some of the anxiety knotting up his insides. No such luck. At least Naruto was secure in the knowledge that Sasuke had fully recovered from his hospital stay.

There was no putting it off any longer. The Kyūbi's influence was growing ever so slowly, ever so steadily stronger as the months passed, its menace bubbling up like something rotting at the bottom of a peaceful pond. The whispers had almost formed words, now. He could hear it. He could almost see it, and Sasuke deserved to know.

"Oh that's it, I'm calling the matches. Knocking you down is like punching a used tissue," Sasuke complained. He loomed over Naruto, feet apart and hands on his hips. "Why'd you whine so much about getting me out here if you weren't even going to bother putting up a fight?"

"Um… well… I was trying, but…." Naruto mumbled. The skin beneath his hitai-ate was prickling with cold sweat. He pulled it down around his neck and went to find a towel from the satchel at the edge of the ring. He swiped it quickly across his face and rearranged his legs so he could sit leaning against the chipped stones of the wall.

The annoyance on Sasuke's face began to ebb. "You're getting really pale," he observed. "Is your stomach bothering you or something?"

Naruto let the towel drop onto his bag and brought his free hand to his belly. "You could say that, I guess," he said. "There's just… something I've been putting off telling you for a while, and it's not going to get any better so I should probably spit it out but I'm afraid of what you're going to think of me afterward."

"If this is about Sakura..." Sasuke began.

"Sakura? Uh, not—"

"If I ever did come up with feelings for her—which I'm pretty sure I don't have, by the way—I promise you I'm going to keep my hands off."

"Thanks, but it's not Sakura. Not at all. It's me. I'm not who you think I am. Or I am, but that's not the whole story, because there's actually..." Forcing the words out of his lips was painful. Fear was not something with which Naruto was well acquainted. The things that scared most shinobi–pain, defeat, death–he gave barely a thought. But nothing, _nothing_ frightened him as much as the knowledge he might be as much of a threat to the lives of his friends as any enemy. It had gone slinking around his guts since the night in the forest, until he did feel almost physically ill. Sasuke was the first person his age to accept him. To defend him from all those who called him a monster. The trouble was that they sort of had a point.

"I have the Kyūbi sealed inside me," Naruto blurted out.

His brother's eyebrows arched, but he otherwise said nothing. Sasuke continued staring at him as Naruto babbled on.

"When it attacked, the Yondaime Hokage needed a newborn baby to take the seal, and my mom was the last vessel, so I guess he thought it was fitting. The Hokage said it would be hard for you to take, and that I should give you some time, so if you don't have anything to say to me now... I'll see you at home later, okay?"

Sasuke ran a hand through his hair, and after a few moments began to laugh. "_Seriously_?"

"I'm not trying to prank you, I really do!" Naruto unzipped his jacket and pulled the t-shirt up to his ribs. He concentrated for moment and the seal spiraled out on his stomach.

Sasuke took a few steps closer and crouched to inspect the inky design. Although it followed the contour of his abdominal muscles, shuddering with nervousness, the black was deeper than any tattoo could be, as if the light that fell on it was never reflected back.

"That's it?" Sasuke murmured. "I was expecting something more... I don't know. Flashier."

Naruto let his shirt drop down once again as he finished processing what Sasuke had just said. "You were 'expecting'? You mean you... you _knew_?"

"Suspected. There were little hints–they piled up. Your birthday, for one. The way people whispered about you when we were younger. That Mom made you come with me to Mount Myoboku the night of the Uchiha Rebellion. I know why she had to protect me from Madara if they failed to stop it, but you?" He shrugged. "And that day Iruka-sensei died. I could feel something in the air. Something evil. Your eyes changed."

"So now what?" Naruto asked between shallow, rapid breaths.

Sasuke straightened, leaning forward and offering him a hand to rise. "What do you mean 'now what'? I'm not going anywhere–you're still my brother and I don't care what you have inside you. You're the same person you were yesterday. Stop puffing like that. You'll make yourself so dizzy you pass out."

Once he'd regained his footing, Sasuke pulled his brother slightly closer, until they were cheek to cheek. Grateful beyond words, Naruto looped his arms around Sasuke's chest and pressed his face against the wide collar of his shirt. With an indulgent grin, Sasuke folded his arms over Naruto's shoulders until his frantic panting settled into a more sedate pace.

"Sasuke?"

"Hmm?"

"That was so sweet of you I think I really am gonna hurl."

The difference between a hug and a headlock wasn't that great, anatomically speaking. Just a rearrangement of a couple of necks and a few elbows, which Sasuke demonstrated with lightning speed. A cloud of dust flew up as Naruto struck the dirt face-first for the fourth time that afternoon.

"Gaaah! Bastard! That's where I keep my kidneys!" he yelled.

Sasuke shifted his knee a fraction but didn't let Naruto up. "Like I said. Tough as used tissue."

"So I spilled my secret," Naruto said to the dirt. "You have to spill yours."

"What… secret?" Sasuke asked, letting his muscles slacken.

Untangling himself from Sasuke's hold, Naruto patted the latest coating of ashes from his clothes. "Look, I know I've never been the brightest bulb, but I'm not _that_ dumb. Something's been eating you for months. Just tell me."

Sasuke shook his head. The smile on his face had emptied of all gentleness, going brittle. "There's nothing to tell."

"You're a hopeless liar when your heart's not in it," Naruto said. "I'm sure Nii-chan and Sakura would give you a hand, too. All you've gotta do is ask. That's what we're here for–no matter how awful or embarrassing you think it is, we're never, ever going to turn on you."

"You really mean that, don't you. With every fiber of your pea-brained being," he said, and dropped his eyes to his crossed ankles. "I'm… confused, I guess, and I'm so afraid I'm not worth–"

"I'm taking the winner!" Sakura called from above their heads, who had arrived by the interlocking branches of the ancient trees lining the river.

Sasuke rose hastily. The courage to continue with the confession had evaporated. "Naruto has something important he needs to tell you," he said instead.

Sakura dropped out of the branches to the top of the wall, then to the ground.

"So don't freak out," Sasuke warned her.

"Oh thanks, Sasuke," Naruto huffed. "Alright… you saw that red light on our first C-Rank, after I thought Sasuke had died. That was because... it's because I'm the—"

"Kyūbi jinchūriki," Sakura finished softly. "Yeah, I know."

Even Sasuke's jaw dropped. "How could you possibly have–"

"I read a lot."

"You _read a lot_!?" Naruto repeated. "That's not an explanation!"

"I'm serious, that's how I figured it out," Sakura said. "I heard the old Kiri shinobi we fought call you a jinchūriki, so when we got back to Konoha I snuck into the restricted sections of the military archives to look up all the references to it in the old intelligence reports."

"You _did_ see me losing control in the forest, didn't you," Naruto said. "Weren't you scared?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," she said. "But after I realized what you were, I had a… talk with Itachi-sensei. What he said gave me the space to think–really think. You… you're _strong_, Naruto, and what makes you strong enough to hold back the Kyūbi is how much you care about the people around you–your family, your friends… even your enemies.

"When we kids, you were the only person that really believed in me, you know? _I_ didn't even think I had what it took to be a real shinobi. Seems like I should return the favor," she finished.

"Guys… I…" He stopped to sniff. "_Group hug_!"

"What the… Sakura, that's so not appropriate!"

"Eeee! Naruto, don't you dare squeeze–"

After everyone had disentangled themselves from Naruto's enthusiastic embrace (something Sakura had accomplished with her usual violence), there was the sound of three throats being cleared simultaneously. Naruto gingerly prodded at the tear in his lip with his tongue and winced.

"Look, irritating quirks aside, I'm grateful I have two such devoted teammates, but we are _never doing that again_," Sasuke announced. "I came here to hit people. That is what we are going to do now. Sakura, for trying to pinch me, you're first."

"I'm a lady! Don't accuse me of–"

Sasuke extracted a kunai from his thigh pouch. "Naruto would rather choke to death on a bunch of spinach than stick his hand down there. I am _not_ holding back."

-ooo-

The Konohagakure quartermaster's warehouse, was, in a word, enormous. Every shinobi in the village's employ needed to be uniformed, supplied, and armed, and this was where they came to do it. Racks and racks of shelving and shipping crates occupied most of the complex, with an army of clerical workers squeezing into the remaining cracks and crevices. The atmosphere was one of low-grade irritation, since, no matter how many genin were assigned on any given day as runners, a soul-sucking queue almost always formed anyway.

"Reorganizing this godforsaken place is first on your list of things to do as Godaime, right?" Kakashi asked, eying the line. "And maybe adding a home delivery service?"

"The Sandaime tried that," Itachi said. "Trying to catalog it all kept our venerable Jōnin Commander drunk for a week straight. And he gave up on the delivery idea around when Mitarashi Anko ordered a box of nylon line, and then ripped it open on the spot to use on the poor boy who handed it to her." Itachi paused to brush a bit of cat hair off his sleeve. "I'm assuming she was also very drunk at the time… or at least one hopes. See Kurenai yet?"

He had unfortunately just missed Yūhi Kurenai at her home, and a tip from a neighbor led him here. He'd run into Kakashi on the way over, whose own supplies of sharp and tossable objects were approaching critically low levels. In a sea of stern green and navy blue, her white and red outfit would be easy to spot even in this crush.

In the small pool of genjutsu specialists taking combat missions, Kurenai placed what was probably a distant second to himself. Like his mother, her strength wasn't on the battlefield. Konoha needed the subtle as much as it needed the strong, shinobi who could use their illusions to slip like ghosts into enemy strongholds and leaving nothing but chaos their wake. Kurenai was one of those shinobi, and, as demonstrated by her recent promotion to jōnin, she was very good at what she did.

"Not yet," Kakashi said. "I'll send her your way if I do–I'm finding a line and getting in it before they get even scarier. It's times like this I sort of wish I had my own loyal minions… I mean genin."

Although he was usually loath to use ninjutsu for something so trivial, Itachi had a very limited window to find Kurenai before his next appointment. He'd been spending so much time on political matters lately he felt he owed Naruto at least _this_ much. He activated his sharingan, which was just as well, since it was at exactly that moment that a leg encased in knitted orange cotton came hurtling toward his face at an absurd speed.

"_Dynamic en_–"

Reflexively, Itachi turned just enough that the blur of green spandex missed his nose. Kakashi, who was by now even more accustomed to this, also removed himself a meter to the left. He was considerate enough to shove the hapless genin next in line out of the way as well.

"–try… ahhhhhh, not _again_. Curse you, Kakashi!" Gai said, after he had struck the far wall and rebounded with an impromptu backflip. He straightened and waved the remaining wisps of smoke from Kakashi's shunshin out of his face.

The genin, on his hands and knees scrabbling for his glasses, said, "What just happened? Are we under attack? I can't see!"

Gai snatched the spectacles away before they could be crushed under a boot sole and presented them, and a hand up, to the bewildered boy. "My apologies, young man. I truly did not realize you were standing behind my extraordinarily fleet-footed rival."

"Oh, I… Hatake-san?" the boy said, gaping. "Did you just save my life? How can I ever thank you?"

"I think I just saved you from a funny bruise, but…" Kakashi said quietly, and then continued in a louder tone, "if you feel that strongly, you could pick up my order for me and then drop it off on my porch." He dug into his belt pouch to extract Icha Icha Tactics and a pencil. He removed the scrap of paper serving as a bookmark and scribbled something on the back. "Here's the receipt."

"Absolutely, sir!" the boy gushed.

Kakashi gestured with his head and they moved to the side of the building to get a better view of the room.

"Have you by chance seen Yūhi Kurenai, Gai-san?" Itachi asked, as they made their way through the crowd.

"She is near the front and should be finishing her errand shortly," Gai said. "For what did you require her?"

"It isn't exactly classified, but I would prefer to keep this quiet all the same," Itachi answered. On the list of people likely to be the Akatsuki mole, Maito Gai ranked about equally with his fellow jōnin sensei (which was to say the possibility was vanishingly small), but he also had the unfortunate habit of declaiming every sentence he uttered loudly enough for an entire room to hear. He was capable of keeping information confidential and speaking quietly when the need arose, but it strained his concentration so much Itachi usually tried to spare him the effort.

Kakashi, who had the advantage of about four centimeters over the shorter Itachi, craned his head back. "Oh, yeah, there she is. Almost at the fourth counter from the left. And Gai… why were you staking out the quartermaster's warehouse?"

"You asked to borrow some of my shuriken before your mission two days ago, so I assumed you had yet again left ordering more to the last minute," Gai said. "Now come! My heart burns for a challenge. This must be remedied immediately!"

"They make pills for that," Kakashi said under his breath.

"Did you say something, my rival?"

Kakashi shrugged, gazing off into space. "Eh? No."

"Then come, come! The latest contest I have devised is brilliant. I am confident you will find it both strenuous yet deeply satisfying. You are also, of course, always welcome to match yourself against us, Itachi-san."

Itachi blinked at him under upraised eyebrows. "I am extremely busy," he said. "_Extremely_ busy."

"Remind me what we did last time?" Kakashi asked.

Before Gai could answer, Itachi gave Kakashi a significant glance, as if silently recalculating everything he knew about the older jōnin's bedroom habits.

"No, on second thought, don't. Need a minute, okay?" Kakashi said. "I'll meet you outside."

"You swear on your honor as a shinobi and the sacred flames of our beautiful village?" Gai asked, a touch suspicious.

"I swear on my honor as a shinobi and the sacred flames of our beautiful village," Kakashi repeated dutifully. "Just a minute."

Satisfied, Gai strode out the door, or as close to a stride as he could manage with several dozen annoyed shinobi between him and the exit.

Kakashi turned to Itachi. "You… I… just… no. Shut up. I know you didn't say anything, but _shut up_. You know how words come out of Gai's mouth and they don't mean what everyone else thinks they mean."

"For someone who spends a significant portion of his day publicly consuming pornographic literature, you are remarkably easy to fluster," Itachi commented. "Ah. Kurenai is at the counter. I should go. And you still owe me your last two mission reports. I expect them on my desk after you finish your… activities with Gai-san."

"Fine, _fine_," Kakashi huffed, and then added, under the cover of a brief coughing fit, "ahehhmslavedriver."

Itachi turned his attention back to the actual task at hand, as amusing as embarrassing Kakashi was. Cutting in line was another perk of his position as Candidate Hokage, and he politely parted the sea of disgruntled shinobi and made his way to the front of the complex.

"Yūhi... Yūhi... here we go," the clerk said triumphantly, as he retrieved her package and laid it across the counter.

Kurenai closed her eyes and exhaled a calming breath. "I most certainly did not order almost two meters of ornately worked naginata."

"I have the order sheet right here," he said defensively, holding it up.

"My name is not 'Reiko' and this thing is not mine. I just want a box of camp consumables. You know—rice, protein bars, replacement water filters, matches...?"

Red in the face, he replaced the naginata on the shelf and deposited two small boxes on the counter instead. "Sign here please, Kurenai-san."

She tersely thanked the clerk and hefted her share of supplies.

"Those for the road?" Itachi asked, catching her attention at the edge of the service desks.

"Itachi-san?" she said, peering over the packages. "And… yes, they are. My team wanted to give it a second try, and they've all healed up fine in the time it took for the Kazekage to get the details sorted out. Would you pass on my thanks to Sakura for treating them?"

"Of course," Itachi said, falling into step with her. He pushed open the nearest door so she wouldn't have to juggle the boxes to let herself out.

"Oh, thank you," she said, smiling slightly. "And I have to ask... how is her genjutsu training coming along?"

"Beautifully," Itachi answered. "Are you still cross about my having her reassigned from Team Eight?"

Outside the warehouse there was a small park bordered by a low stone wall. Kurenai slid the boxes onto it and readjusted the bandages wrapped around her palms to get a better grip on the slick cardboard. "No. Water under the bridge," she said, shaking her head. "Hinata may not have much use for genjutsu, but there's still plenty for me to teach her. I think it was for the best she ended up under a female jōnin sensei, after what happened to her mother and all.

"It's a shame your complete team isn't coming to Suna as well. From what I heard from my genin, they worked together spectacularly well in the forest."

They were alone for the time being; mentioning his errand was now safe. "That is actually what I wanted to discuss with you," Itachi said quietly. "I've decided to allow them to compete together after all—Sasuke seems to have recovered from the poisoning without any ill effects. Naruto wanted to know if your team had any interest in joining us. We'll be taking the scenic route, as it were, to lessen the chances someone will make a move against Sasuke while we are traveling. Or other interested parties against Naruto, for that matter."

Kurenai nodded, taking the hint. "I can see why they might need a little extra supervision, then. I'd be happy to go with you, and I'm sure my genin would too. Let me know when you'd like to leave."

-ooo-

The assassin, concealed in the tightest cloak of invisibility he could muster, watched and waited. Infiltrating the Hokage's Tower had tested his abilities to their limit, and failure after he had gotten this far was not an option. His hand tightened around his blade as his target rounded the corner, and, his veins ablaze with exhilaration, he charged.

Itachi stepped smoothly onto the trailing scarf, yanked him backward, and disarmed him of the blunt practice kunai with a twirl of his wrist. "Konohamaru-kun, really. This is the third time you have tried to knife me in a month."

Konohamaru drew himself to every sliver of his roughly one-hundred and thirty centimeters and glared at Itachi. He tugged against the uncomfortable grip on his wrist, which got him precisely nowhere. "Screw you, Uchiha! That hat's mine! I got past all his bodyguards this time!"

Holding the furious young boy at arm's length, Itachi said, "ANBU let you get as far as you did because one of my former teammates occasionally enjoys teasing me." He glanced at the innocuous-looking patch of wall that was actually a violet-haired ANBU agent cloaked in an invisibility jutsu.

Although most of the time she radiated an air of stern ruthlessness, buried deep inside Uzuki Yūgao was a mischievous streak of which Naruto would have approved. She dropped the illusion for a moment to salute. "Need to make sure you're still sharp, Taicho."

Past the open door to his office, the Hokage pressed his fist to his mouth to stifle a chuckle. He glanced up from his desk when his grandson finally swept into the room, trailing both his dusty scarf and battered dignity behind him. The grubby t-shirt and shorts that were his usual uniform had been replaced by old-fashioned formal wear, which, when paired with his blue scarf, looked beyond bizarre.

"_Konohamaru_! If you got your hakama dirty running off like that…" his mother called from the hall.

Sarutobi Urumi ducked into the office wearing an elegant kimono woven with a pattern of multicolored peony blossoms. Although she had long retired from active duty to care for her son, the tattoos of a Sarutobi summoning master still marked her lower eyelids. Her younger brother and his ever-present cloud of cigarette smoke wandered in on her heels. Asuma hung back by the doorframe, clearly ill at ease.

"Urumi-san," Itachi said mildly, inclining his head to her. He returned the practice blade, hilt first.

"Don't tell me he… _again_?" she sighed, slipping it inside one of her billowing sleeves. "The patience you have for him is mind-blowing. How do you manage it?"

"Practice," Itachi said. "A great deal of practice."

Urumi turned to her son. "You're in trouble. I'll figure out how much trouble after we get this dinner over with. Leave the scarf, please. You look ridiculous."

Grumbling, Konohamaru unwound the length of cloth and dropped it on the desk. "Why do I have to do this, anyway?"

"The one of the Daimyo's cousins has a son your age," the Hokage said, as he rose from his chair. "I thought he might like some company. Are you coming with us, too, Asuma? I thought you hated these diplomatic functions."

Itachi suspected he was closer to the Hokage than his own youngest son, who had spent most of his career doing the opposite of whatever his father had asked out of pure, pig-headed contrariness. This included refusing the summoning contract with the Monkey clan, turning down several invitations to participate in the Chūnin Exams, and culminated in Asuma leaving the village entirely to serve the Daimyo in the capital for many years. The stubborn streak had eventually mellowed and he had returned to Konoha to accept an overdue promotion and his own genin team. Since quitting the Twelve Guardian Ninja, Asuma now received the same cordial respect from the Hokage as any other jōnin, but it made moments like this one _extraordinarily_ awkward.

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to him for a second," Asuma said, looking to Itachi.

The Hokage checked the clock mounted on the wall. "You should have a bit of time." He took Konohamaru by one shoulder and steered him in the direction of the door. "Don't make that face, Konohamaru! You might like him. I had the Daimyo's bodyguards confirm for me that he is a very nice boy."

Asuma let his father, sister, and grumbling nephew pass. He chewed a little on his cigarette, realized what he was doing, and pulled it hastily out of his mouth. "So I heard you and Kurenai are, um..."

Itachi blinked in puzzlement before realizing Kakashi must have told him about the arrangements for the exam. He was annoyed for a moment, but Asuma was more likely to sprout wings and fly off into the sunset within the next ten seconds than betray Konoha. It was no real security risk. "Going to Suna after all?" Itachi confirmed. "Ah. I was originally planning to go alone, but after the events in Training Ground Forty-Four, Kurenai's students and mine have grown rather attached to each other. It was Naruto's idea they join us."

"N-naruto's idea?" Asuma asked, with an unbecoming stutter.

"Yes…? As I remember, he spent quite a bit of time playing hooky with Shikamaru and Chōji in the throwing range. Your team is welcome to accompany us, if they like. We'll most likely be splitting off to take the south branch of the river and then the back roads to their village. There are fewer eyes off the major trade roads and I would be more comfortable in the countryside… especially with another jōnin I can trust."

"Oh, yeah, sure. They might like that. I'll ask," he said, standing up a little straighter. "Wouldn't want to keep you, then. Good night."

Itachi shut the office door behind him after Asuma had gone. He was edging into unsteady ground now, but the abrupt change in the older jōnin's tone when he'd learned who'd suggested the travel plans hadn't been his imagination. He continued mulling over the exchange when he ran into Kakashi in the hall, who had finally seen fit to deliver his overdue mission reports.

"Who won?" Itachi politely inquired, stopping to greet him.

"Gai," Kakashi said.

"At what?"

Kakashi plucked a piece of hardened cake frosting from his hair and flicked it away with distaste. It was extremely pink and studded with tiny candy stars. "Taking the secret to my grave. What did Asuma want? He seemed unusually… perky."

"I'm not sure," Itachi said contemplatively. "But I have an intriguing if unsubstantiated theory."

"Juicy gossip? I just knew this slumber party was going to be fun," Kakashi announced. "Afterwards, can we watch one of those awful Fujikaze Yukie romance flicks and paint our nails?"

Itachi just blinked at him. "Do you want me to tell you or not?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I do," Kakashi said.

"Do you remember how I mentioned Asuma has been avoiding me since the end of the school term?"

"Yeah...?"

"I believe he was under the impression I've been romantically involved with Kurenai, a misconception that could have been easily dispelled had he simply _asked_ her."

"So what you're saying..." Kakashi said slowly, "is that a guy with a thirty-odd million ryo bounty on his head is too chickenshit to ask a girl out?"

Itachi shrugged. "That was essentially the conclusion I came to, yes."

"Man needs help."

"From you?" Itachi asked, skeptical.

"I've had great luck with women!"

"I do not think he's simply interested in 'getting lucky'," Itachi corrected. "Not with Kurenai. And need I remind you that it doesn't count if you're paying them?"

"First of all, I go to professionals because they're _professional_," Kakashi said. "I may be an emotionally stunted drunk, but I'm not too much of an emotionally stunted drunk to realize how shitty a boyfriend I would make. Just because I choose not to charm Konoha's womenfolk into bed doesn't mean I can't."

"Like who?"

"The waitress at Ichiraku has had the hots for me for years," Kakashi asserted. "Don't give me that look! When was the last you actually got some? Ah? Ah? Ah _hah_."

"Kakashi... don't you have reports to deliver?"

-ooo-

Team Seven left for Suna under cover of darkness, before the sunlight could creep over the mountaintops. Itachi had instructed another genin team to pose as his own and move out with the larger group, to lay a false trail, before doubling back half a day out from the village. The actual Team Seven were to march for several hours then pause for breakfast in the late morning while Teams Eight and Ten caught up.

The roadside restaurant Itachi had chosen as their rendezvous point was nearly invisible between the canes of bamboo crowding the path, and so dilapidated moss was sprouting from between the roofing tiles. It had no menu. The genin and Kakashi ordered on faith from the ancient waitress, who had snow-white hair and only five teeth to her name. Itachi didn't have to say anything. The old woman grinned at him and scribbled something down in her order sheet.

She returned from the kitchen after a short wait, all the porcelain chattering in her trembling grip. Naruto immediately reached over to help unload it all, and breakfast was delivered without any unfortunate accidents. The plates and bowls were chipped and the trays stained, but the aromas rising from them were mouthwatering.

Naruto lifted a bite to his mouth, and then with it still full of tamagoyaki, said, "Wow."

"Yeah," Sasuke agreed. "If you're not eating your greens, I'll take them."

"I don't even know what this _is_," Sakura said, gesturing at the contents of a small gray dish, "but it sure beats the usual toast."

Kakashi had opted to sit alone, facing the wall and outside the ring of pleasant breakfast conversation. Naruto and Sasuke were both used to this and had no comment, but Sakura paused and laid down her chopsticks after a few bites. "There's plenty of room next to me, Kakashi-san. You may not be a member of Team Seven, but you don't have to eat at another table."

"Thanks, but I'm fine here," Kakashi said, without turning around. "Don't worry about it."

"He always does that," Naruto explained. "I've been trying to get a good look at his face for _years_." He lowered his voice to a whisper, and then added, "I don't think he'll eat or drink in front of anybody but Itachi-sensei and my parents, since his dad was their jōnin sensei and they've known him since he was a little kid."

Sakura's face pinched in sudden pity. "Must be hard to keep up much of a social life," she whispered back.

After breakfast had been devoured and everyone felt much better despite waking up at three-thirty in the morning, the genin began a leisurely exploration of the teahouse grounds. There wasn't much to see–a weedy vegetable garden, some dragonflies buzzing around the fishpond, and a skittish farm cat stalking them from the underbrush. Sasuke and Naruto worked their way back inside, and a picture frame stuffed with newspaper clippings caught Sasuke's eyes as he passed the threshold. He stopped in front of it and skimmed the articles while Naruto flopped down on a bench with his chin resting on the table.

"Isn't that funny," Sasuke said.

"Isn't what funny?" Itachi asked absently, who was enjoying the latest of many refills on his tea and watching the dragonflies cavort through the open windows.

"This place has awards for best backcountry teahouse stretching back, oh, a million years," Sasuke said.

"I never knew that. How fascinating," Itachi said, as he took a sip of the delicate, perfectly blended, emerald beverage in front of him.

"Don't tell me you planned our entire route around these places," Naruto complained into the tabletop. "You have the weirdest priorities sometimes."

"I had planned to visit _two_," Itachi said. "I assumed we would all prefer hot meals while we can get them–you seemed to enjoy breakfast, after all. And am I not allowed to have hobbies?"

"But this is so, so... uncool," Naruto said, sitting up. "And you are usually _overflowing_ with cool. You just have to pick somewhere to stand and right away it's the coolest place in Fire Country. Visiting every quaint roadside cafe we pass is not a ninja hobby! It's, like, a granny hobby! It's the opposite of fun. It's _boring._"

"Naruto... my life has been so terribly, terribly, _terribly _interesting that I consider being bored a rare and special treat," Itachi said. "I can enjoy a pot of excellent tea, a plate of excellent dango, and in the half an hour it takes me to finish them I will not have to think about killing anyone. It's bliss."

-ooo-

Teams Eight and Ten arrived within twenty minutes of each other, just as the sun had leached the last of the chill from the air. They took to the road almost immediately, despite some grumbling from Chōji about missing lunch. After they left the wide road and turned on to one of the small footpaths south, Kakashi summoned a few of his ninken to scout ahead and sniff out ambushes, and over Pakkun's objections Itachi decided to bring out his contracted companion as well.

The scarred black cat materialized in a puff of smoke, and as soon as he caught sight of Pakkun his ears flattened against his skull.

"We don't need his help," Pakkun said, from the relative safety of the ground between Kakashi's ankles. "Mangy alley crawler," he added under his breath.

"You know perfectly well where I got this scar, you lapdog," Hyōkurō said, translating every speck of his natural cat's haughtiness into his tone. "You were _there, _cowering under a log while I blinded the Kumo nin about to–"

"Would you two give it a rest?" Kakashi said, exasperated. "There are nine rookie genin on this expedition and so far they've all been better behaved than you."

After a few token hisses and growls, the animals dispersed. They continued traveling without incident until the late afternoon, when Guruko, a tan mutt with pendulous, chocolate-brown ears, came trotting back to the main group and said, "Might want to see this, Boss."

Kakashi jogged ahead, past a bend in the path that meandered between the gently rolling hills. Pakkun was sitting on his haunches beside an intersection of the footpath with another, even more underused track. He bent forward to take a last corroborating sniff of the soft earth.

"You think it's Orochimaru? Or Akatsuki?" Kakashi asked the dog.

"No, no. Much worse," Pakkun answered, deadpan. "We seem to have picked up Maito Gai's trail."

"Oh hah _hah_," Kakashi said.

"Should we be preparing for an ambush?" Kurenai asked anxiously, as she, Itachi, Asuma, and their respective teams caught up to the canine scouts.

"No. We're fine," Kakashi told her. "They just found Konoha's Sublime Green Beast of Prey and decided to be funny about it."

"Really? What's he doing all the way out here?" Kurenai asked no one in particular.

"Considering how difficult the terrain will become once we cross the border, as opposed to taking the trade roads, I'm not particularly surprised," Itachi said.

"Ah yes," Kurenai said. "How could I forget. You can always trust Gai to force his team to scale a mountain range when there are half a dozen easier routes available."

"Well, I'm gonna go say hello," Pakkun announced. "The kunoichi usually has a bit of protein bar on her. And her ear scratches are to die for."

"You have no shame," Kakashi said.

"I'm a dog. Comes with the territory," Pakkun answered, and with that scampered off down the road with the curl of his tail bobbing.

When the remainder of the teams caught up, they found Pakkun splayed out on Tenten's lap, licking crumbs from his muzzle as she enthusiastically knuckled the soft patches of fur behind his ears. Neji was studying a bird's nest perched in a nearby sapling and trying to appear as if he didn't know the two people plowing through sets of one-handed pushups a couple meters to his left.

"Who's got a smooshy smooshy faaace–oh hi, Sakura," Tenten said abruptly. "Didn't expect to see you here. And thanks for giving me an excuse to sit down and stuff." She extended her legs and rolled her ankles around to squeeze a little more pleasure out of the brief stop.

Pakkun sat up, shook out his fur, and leaped from her knees to resume scouting duty. Introductions were made between Gai's genin and Teams Eight and Ten, who recognized each other from the Academy but, being a year apart, couldn't always pin a name to a face.

"We delayed to allow you to catch up so that we may travel together, my rival," Gai said. "Now, to reach our goal by sundown, we will have to run!"

"Can we not?" Kakashi asked. "It's not like we're going to be late for registration walking there."

Asuma coughed. "Seconded."

"Really, really thirded," Chōji added from next to his teacher.

Tenten and Neji both refrained from contributing 'nay' votes, though their expressions made it clear they were both aching to do so. Neji stopped studying the chirping balls of fluff above their heads and gave Tenten a look that said 'please, please do something'.

"You and Lee could each take one of their packs, Sensei," Tenten offered in her sweetest, most innocent voice, who was a Green Beast wrangler _par excellence._ "So you'd be making the same time but with more weight."

"A brilliant proposition!" Gai said. "Kakashi, your bag?"

Kakashi hardly had an objection to this, and handed it over. Shikamaru had also gotten the straps off his shoulders and dropped his in front of Lee before the boy in green could so much as open his mouth.

"No fair," Chōji groused.

"That is most kind of you… Shikamaru-kun, was it?" Lee asked, as he arranged the extra pack over his chest.

"That's me," Shikamaru said. "You're welcome to keep hold of it for the rest of the trip, if you want. As an upperclassman, I mean… you deserve to take advantage of this training opportunity more than I do."

"I believe I shall! When we return to Konoha, I will repay your generosity tenfold. I will find us two more spare packs so that we may run laps around Konoha in a properly youthful manner. Oh, and we should not neglect to fill them with rocks!"

"No, no, that's o–"

But Lee and Gai had already bounded off, retaking the lead and declaiming in loud tones how lightly their traveling companions had packed.

"–kay," Shikamaru finished lamely.

When they were out of earshot, the normally subdued Asuma burst out laughing. He fished into his pockets for another cigarette, lit it, and gave Shikamaru a consoling pat on the shoulder before continuing down the trail. "Shikamaru… you don't know what you just got yourself into. My condolences."

-ooo-

At an even walking pace, it took just under a week to reach Sunagakure. The first third of their journey was across relatively easy, familiar terrain. Thanks to the frequent volcanic activity through much of its length, Fire Country's soil was fruitful and the population booming. Even in the 'wild' country there were few beasts or bandits to be found. The teams found well-maintained trails and hot meals up until they reached the border with River Country.

The rich black earth had grown progressively swampier the farther west they travelled, the fields of wheat giving way to water-loving rice. Since none of the genin save Neji had mastered the delicate art of water-walking, a pair of barges were hired to take them down one of the many rivers that gave the country its name.

Their last stop before crossing the line of mountains that split the northern halves of Fire and Wind Country was an onsen of fine reputation, even if it was tossed in the middle of a swamp. The sky was spitting (and threatening worse), when the pleasant golden glow of the onsen's lanterns peeked through the tall grass of the marshes.

After the building was secured and several of Kakashi's pack was placed on sentry duty, it was decided the jōnin would take their meals downstairs while the genin enjoyed the fruits of room service. Although it would never be said these particular teachers didn't love their students dearly, the constant company of a dozen excited thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds could have even the most patient jōnin sensei ready to bite off a few heads.

Gai, who had suffered rather on the boats, had refused all offers of food and went straight to bed, leaving the other four adults to enjoy their meals in a nearly-empty dining room on the first floor of the inn. It had a definite, if rustic, charm of the sort that could only be gained by decades of hands and feet polishing down the well-fitted woodwork. The paths and rooms were lit by lanterns and braziers instead of electricity and the air was tart with the scent of citronella to keep the insects away.

Kurenai sighed longingly at the collection of fine spirits lined up behind the bar and ordered herself another soda water. She had taken a seat on the wooden stool with the wall on her left and Itachi on her right. "This was a good find," Kurenai said, turning to the younger (although more senior) jōnin. "I'll have to come back when I can try some of their top-shelf bottles."

She continued when Itachi answered with only a nod, his mouth occupied with a piece of mushroom. "This is going to be an interesting exam season. I heard tickets sold out almost as soon as they went on sale. Your team was a big draw, and then there's all three of the Kazekage's children, the Tsuchikage's granddaughter, Momochi Zabuza's team from Kiri…" She took a sip from the glass the bartender had just deposited in front and glanced slyly at Itachi from beneath her long lashes. "Although personally I'm betting on a few of the underdogs to make it through to the finals instead."

Challenging the Candidate Hokage wasn't usually something to be undertaken frivolously, but a bit of friendly rivalry tended to bloom between instructors around exam time. Technically speaking, Itachi wouldn't go so far as to call Kurenai a _friend_, but 'eminently likable professional acquaintance' was unwieldy. "You seem confident of that," he replied, seeing no reason not to rise to it.

"I wouldn't have nominated my team if I didn't think one of them had a shot at a promotion," she answered. "If one of them does make it to the arena, would the outcome be worth anything to you? Dinner at that new sushi place next to the Standby Station, maybe?"

Itachi could not help but notice, farther down the bar, the violent fit of coughing that had followed Sarutobi Asuma inhaling a mouthful of his drink.

"I don't gamble," Itachi said crisply. "And aren't getting a bit ahead of yourself? We haven't even seen the second course yet."

"I suppose…" she started, and then leaned back on the stool when the coughing didn't abate. "Good god, Asuma, are you all right?"

"Fine," he choked out. "Went down the wrong pipe." He pushed the empty glass and dishes in the direction of the bartender and stood. "Going out for a smoke." He coughed again. "If Chōji asks, tell him he's not allowed to put anything on my tab."

"Have one to spare?" Kurenai asked, rising as well.

"You smoke?"

"Now and then," she said. "It goes well with a few drinks, you know?" She chuckled low in her throat. "Or it would, if I were off duty."

Asuma and Kurenai disappeared into the cooler night air. There was the clicking sound of someone fiddling with a lighter, and then quiet laughter drifted in from the porch. It faded away as they wandered out into the gardens.

"Operation Get-Asuma-Laid, Phase One outcome: tentative success," Kakashi said from his table. "Except I think Kurenai might have been flirting with you. It's hard to tell. Could you tell?"

Assuming the pair might be gone for longer than it took to finish one cigarette, Itachi moved his dishes to where Kakashi was huddling by himself in the corner. "You _are_ secretly twelve."

"Am not."

"That your 'rivalry' with Gai has continued suggests otherwise," Itachi said, picking up his chopsticks again. "You realize he would eventually find another target to pester if you stopped accepting the challenges?"

"He's not the kind to give up that easily."

"You actually enjoy making a fool of yourself with him, don't you?"

After that, Kakashi steered the conversation down another path without confirming or denying the charge. Even _he_ couldn't manage to lie convincingly to Itachi. As they were finishing, his eyes focused on a point behind Itachi's head.

Itachi glanced behind him to see what had captured the silver-haired jōnin's attention.

"I think Pinky wants to talk to you," he said in a hushed voice. "She doesn't look like she's feeling too good. Why don't you put on your sympathetic-big-brother face while I go get myself another drink." Kakashi paused. "Another _soft_ drink. Stop giving me those looks. What do you think I've been sucking down with Orochimaru's goons possibly after us? Give your sempai a little bit of credit here."

Sakura, hanging back by the steps to the second floor, approached the table only after Kakashi was safely ensconced in conversation with a pretty young waitress. She bent low to begin whispering in her teacher's ear.

When she finished and straightened, he said, "You... started your first..."

She nodded, miserable. The look on his face could not have been described as terror, because the only thing that could _possibly_ have terrified Uchiha Itachi was facing down a rampaging Kyūbi. By himself. Blindfolded.

Itachi pushed his chair back, and said, with perfect nonchalance, "Let's find Kurenai, shall we?"

-ooo-

Teams Seven and Eight had decided to push the screens apart to open up the double room and take their dinners together. Although Naruto hadn't had to worry about satiating his bottomless pit of an appetite for years, he still couldn't quite shake the impulse to shovel everything in sight into his mouth as quickly as possible. Etiquette took a back seat when you grew up with the clawed fingers of hunger scratching at your insides.

Sucking down noodles like a pig at its trough wasn't usually something that made him self-conscious, but dining across from Hinata was making him antsy. She had the most perfect table manners he'd ever seen, every motion so effortlessly graceful and silent it was like watching a princess at a royal feast. She winced once when Kiba let out an accidental belch, but otherwise said nothing to make anyone else uncomfortable about their more casual approach to the social graces. She'd barely said anything at all, and it wasn't like Naruto hadn't tried.

He paused briefly from munching his way down a piece of shrimp when the door opened.

Sakura had refused to eat much of anything and had wandered downstairs some time ago. Now she was back with both Itachi and Kurenai in tow. Her face was flushed, as if she was feverish, and she kept one arm pressed to her belly.

Hinata laid her bowl down without as much as a click on the lacquered foot. "Sakura-san, um, are you…?"

The teachers were conversing haltingly and in tones too quiet for him to make sense of the discussion. Kurenai continued nodding as Itachi spoke, continuing the conversation that had begun on the stairs.

When he finished, all she said was, "Is _that_ all? I'll take it from here," and then pushed Sakura gently in the direction of the bathroom.

Itachi inclined his head slightly, muttered his thanks, and fled.

"I think it would be best if you boys went to take advantage of the baths for the next half an hour or so," Kurenai said.

"We're not done eating!" Kiba complained, his mouth full and his face deep in a soup bowl.

"You're close enough, so right now, please," she said. "Hinata, would you be able to lend Sakura some of your supplies? I didn't pack any."

Hinata wiped her mouth daintily and nodded, padding to the corner of the room that held her pack. Kiba opened his mouth to start complaining again, looked at his teacher, the empty place that had held _Sakura's _teacher, and then to where Hinata was rummaging around in her bag of toiletries, whereupon he quickly reached the correct conclusion. "Right. Baths. Great plan."

"Kurenai-sensei, what's wrong with Sakura-chan? Is she sick? Is it serious? Should we head back to—" Naruto said, standing up to brush bits of rice and sesame seeds from his lap.

Kiba grabbed Naruto by the collar of his shirt, dragging him bodily down the hall. "She'll probably be fine by the time the exam starts. It's girl stuff."

Shino and Sasuke exchanged brief glances and followed their teammates, who had simultaneously figured out why Kiba was in such a hurry to leave the women to their mysteries.

Naruto wiggled his way out of Kiba's grasp and readjusted his shirt when they reached the covered walkway that separated the sleeping quarters from the bathing area. "What do _you_ know about girl stuff?"

"Between my mom, my older sister, and my grandma, I'm the only human guy in the house. Believe me, I know more than I ever wanted to learn in a hundred years," Kiba said, wrinkling his nose. "You know how most women like to make out that they're beautiful and perfect and naturally just smell like flowers all the time? It's lies. It's all lies."

"Wha—what's happening to her?" Naruto asked, looking beseechingly at his companions.

"If you weren't paying attention last year in sex ed, I am _not _filling in the gaps for you," Sasuke declared.

"Come on, please, I'm worried about her. She looked awful."

Sasuke rolled his eyes, then cupped his hand against Naruto's ear to explain.

Naruto's eyes went wider and wider under the flickering torchlight. "Out of her… oh my god—_how much are we talking about here?_" he shrieked.

The window above slid open with a snap and Kurenai leaned out, looking peeved. "You. Bath. _Now_," she ordered.

-ooo-

The baths were well-kept and very popular with travelers, although given the generally lousy weather this evening there were few taking advantage of them. The stars and moon were hidden behind a thick smear of clouds, and the torches hissed under the infrequent dribbles of rain.

The four genin approached the counter to rent robes and towels, although Shino hung back with his face shoved even more firmly into his collar than usual. "Hey, you can't bring a dog in there!" the attendant said, as Kiba held out a few coins.

"He's a ninken... and smarter than most of the kids you'd let in here," he said. "He's not going to piss in it."

"No. Dogs," the attendant insisted. "I don't care if he can recite epic poetry, the drains are going to clog something horrible."

"He can stay out here with me," Shino offered. "I have decided I am going for a walk."

Kiba sighed and removed the puppy from his head. Akamaru got up on his hind legs to paw at the tops of Kiba's sandals, complaining about the unfairness of this in a high-pitched whine. "Sorry, I tried. Stay with Shino, okay? I won't be in here long."

He trotted obediently to stand next to the Aburame, plopping down on his haunches and sighing piteously. "You are perfectly capable of walking," Shino said, looking down.

Akamaru's response was to lie down and wiggle on to his back, sticky his stubby legs in the air.

"No," Shino said. "You know Hinata and I will neither pick you up nor pet you if you insist on rolling around in dead birds. I do not care how fascinating your littermates would find it; your odor is offensive."

With that declaration, he turned back the way he had come to make a round of the island on which the inn rested.

The bath attendant was now more than happy to accept their money, and the three of them made their way back to the changing area. "Why isn't Shino coming with us?" Naruto asked, as he pushed his way past the curtains. He stripped, tossed his things onto a bench, and began scrubbing off the road grime under the ancient taps. "Does he not like onsen? Who _doesn't_ like onsen?"

"He likes onsen just fine," Kiba explained, as he wadded up his own things in a basket and shoved it back on the shelf. "Just not... ones this public. He knows _I_ wouldn't care, but I don't think he wanted to deal with the rest of you guys freaking out on him once he's naked."

"So his bugs really live under—" Naruto began.

"Yeah."

"And so he's covered in little holes for them to—"

"Yeah."

"_Gross_!" Naruto all but shrieked, and even Sasuke paused from his ferocious cleaning to make a disgusted face.

"Aaand that's why he isn't in here with us," Kiba finished, and bared his teeth in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Just remember his kikaichu probably saved your butts back in the Forest of Death, hmm?"

Shikamaru, Chōji, Neji, and Lee had finished eating earlier and were already in the pool, in opposite ends, talking quietly with their respective teammates. The sides for men and women were separated by a bamboo fence drooping with vines, although from the silence the women's side appeared to be empty. Chōji and Lee said hello, and Shikamaru raised his hand slightly in greeting but otherwise didn't move. Neji said nothing at all, turning away from the curtains in the doorway of the locker rooms and brushing a lock of his hair over his forehead.

"Kurenai-sensei kicked us out of the room for a while," Kiba explained. "They're doing secret girl stuff in there now. How's the water?"

"Nice," Chōji answered. "I wish we got to relax like this on every mission. The food here was great, too."

"We're not here on vacation," Sasuke reminded him, as he slipped into the milky water. "So don't get too used to it. They don't have these on the other side of the mountains."

Naruto got in with a splash, drenching the boys already in the pool. Neji, as the closest, got the worst of it. He'd tied vhis long hair atop of his head to keep it from getting wet, an ultimately futile precaution. Wiping the water from his cheeks, he turned to glare at Naruto. "Do you _mind_?" he said acidly. "I've met monkeys with better manners."

"Heh, sorry Neji," Naruto said, very clearly not. He paddled over to Neji's side. "You can splash me back if you want. Go on. Free shot right in the face."

Neji gave him a look that was usually reserved for the mushy, odiferous things one occasionally had to scrap from the bottom of a sandal sole. "I have no interest in playing children's games with you."

"I do!" Lee announced, and sent a tidal wave of hot water sweeping towards Naruto. This prompted quick and indiscriminate retaliation, and chorus of complaints from everyone else.

"Troublesome," Shikamaru grumbled under his breath, finally deigning to peel the wet towel from his eyes and raise his head from the lip of the pool. "Me and Chōji got in here to _get away_ from you crazy people. Naruto, you splash me again and I'm shadow-possessing you into kissing Sasuke. On the lips."

"What?" Naruto screeched. "That is so nasty on so many levels!"

"Find a corner and _hold still_, and you won't have to worry about it, will you?" Sasuke said, who'd gotten water up his nose thanks to his brother's horseplay and was now in a twitchy temper.

Defeated by Shikamaru's unparalleled tactical skill, Naruto settled gamely against the wall near Lee. Neji eyed him warily, as he resumed the conversation speculating on the specifics of the exam with his teammate, but Naruto kept mercifully still and silent.

After a few minutes of listening politely, Naruto raised his mouth out of the water and said, "That's a cool tattoo on your forehead. What's it for?"

Neji's expression went icy, and even Lee, who was almost pathologically difficult to embarrass, started looking uncomfortable. Everyone else's conversations trickled to a halt.

"If there was ever any doubt, I think you've made it quite clear that the Uchiha genius is thoroughly nature, not nurture," Neji said into the sudden silence. "Why the Head's family took you in I can't even begin to guess. You're a taint to the Uchiha name."

"Neji, I do not believe he meant any—" Lee began.

"How about me and Naruto get dressed and meet you in back of the garden shed in ten minutes?" Sasuke said, cutting off Lee's attempt to restore the peace. His sharingan was blazing in the torchlight. "Then we can _show _you why."

"Guys, come _on_," Chōji piped up. "A little sparring is one thing, but you shouldn't be all-out fighting on the way to the Exams. You'll be hurting your teams' chances, not just yourselves."

Sasuke sneered over his shoulder at Chōji, but had to bow to his very good point.

"Tch. I'm done," Neji said, levering himself out and grabbing his towel. "I want you to understand that I am going back upstairs and to bed solely out of consideration for my team. But if I cross paths with any Uchiha during the Exams... let's just say I've heard serious injuries happen quite frequently. Especially to the less experienced genin."

"I bet you're all talk!" Naruto called after him. "What're you gonna do? Take that stick out of your butt and try to beat him with it? We're gonna kick your ass!"

Neji looked back for a moment, and swung the curtains closed so forcefully the rod fell from its clips and clattered on to the paving stones.

As soon as he was sure the Hyūga had gone, Naruto climbed out of the pool as well. He dried off and dressed in one of the inn's robes, tucking his clothes under his arm. The door to the double room was slightly open, and Naruto judged it safe to enter again. Sakura, Hinata, and Tenten were sharpening their weapons and nibbling on pieces of chocolate from a large bar in the center of the table. "Sakura-chan... um, are you feeling better?" he asked, hanging on the doorframe. "You looked like you had a pretty bad stomachache before."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, blushing slightly. "Kurenai-sensei gave me some medicine for it. I didn't mean to cause such a scene."

"That's good," Naruto said, relieved. "I was afraid you'd be too sick to enter the Exams, and we need you."

"Hey Naruto, you can come in, it's not like this is the girls-only room," Tenten said, reaching over into her 'to-do' pile.

"W-would you like some chocolate, Naruto-kun?" Hinata said, her voice almost inaudible over the steady snick-snick-snick of the whetstone against one of Tenten's many, many blades.

"Sure," he said, folding down in the empty space between Sakura and Hinata. He broke off a large piece and put it in his mouth, crunching happily. "Neji's your cousin, right Hinata?"

"Mm. Our fathers were identical twins."

"Do you know what that green cross thingy on his head is for? He got really mad at me when I asked him. Like, really_, really_ mad."

Hinata let out an unhappy squeak and her fidgeting hands went abruptly still.

Tenten stopped the steady rhythm of her sharpening to look slack-jawed at Naruto.

"It's... I... I don't think I... " Hinata mumbled, so miserable she was tripping over the words.

Tenten put down the kunai and wiped her oily hands on the rag by her knees. "It's the Branch Family's curse. The Caged Bird seal," she said quietly, when Hinata failed to put together a coherent sentence. Beside her, Hinata's head dipped in shame, reluctant to meet anyone's eyes. "What it was _supposed _to do is protect their byakugan from thieves when they died. But a while ago one of the Hyūga clan heads added something else, so the seal goes past their eyes and right into their brains. Any time anyone from the Main House wants, they just have to make a special handsign, and the seal lights up. Neji told me it feels like a lightning storm inside his head. It can even kill him, if it's held open for long enough."

Sakura gasped, looking to Hinata, whose fists were clenched so tightly on the fabric of her pants that her arms where trembling. "If your fathers were twins, that would make Neji Hyūga-sama's nephew. Why would he do something like that to his own family? And does that mean _you _could—"

"I wouldn't do that to him, not ever!" Hinata said, forcefully and without faltering. "I wouldn't do it to anyone," she continued in a softer voice. "W-whenever I saw my father use it on Neji, or the other Branch House members, it hurt so much it felt like I'd swallowed poison.

"I think... I think you Uchiha did it the right way." She smiled briefly at Naruto. "You don't have any masters or servants in your clan, unless people choose to be. The best Uchiha shinobi can get whatever training or techniques they want. Destiny doesn't choose who'll lead you. _You_ do. But it..." she sighed. "It'll never be that way in the Hyūga."

"Why not?" Naruto asked.

"Because the Clan Head wouldn't..."

Naruto rubbed at his nose. "She would once _you_ are the Clan Head," he said, as if this were the most obvious solution in the world. "Then you could tell everybody what to do. And if you said 'no more Caged Bird seals for anyone ever again', they'd have to do what you say, right?"

"B-but I'm not actually going to be…"

"Hinata," Sakura interrupted. "I'm sorry if I'm sticking my nose into something that isn't my business, but I overheard you talking with your team while Sasuke was delirious. Is it true your father is disinheriting you unless you make it to the third stage of the Exams?"

She nodded. "Unless he sees me win my first arena fight, I'll have shamed the clan, so..."

"What. The. Hell?" Naruto blurted out. "Is he nuts? Hardly any rookies make it that far on their first try. Did you ask Neji to help you? He seems like a huge jerk, but Sasuke said he was the best in his class last year. I bet he could teach you tons, if he wanted to."

"Neji-niisan… doesn't like me very much," Hinata admitted. "But he's very strong. He… he would probably be a better fighter than my father, if he was allowed to learn the Main House secret techniques."

"I don't know you very well yet, but I'm pretty sure _l _like you," Tenten announced. "Neji's just... he's only nasty to people who don't deserve it because the one person who _does_ deserve it, he can't go after."

"Hold up, hold up," Naruto said, gesturing with his open palms for silence. "I'm kinda slow, so let me know if I've got this screwed up. You're the first Hyūga clan heir in a million years who wants to stop this Main House-Branch House crap once and for all. Your dad is going to kick you to the curb because he doesn't think you're strong enough. The kid who _is_ strong enough, and who gets zapped by your dad whenever he sticks a toe out of line, is too busy being a mean-spirited, whiny, prissy princess to even given you the time of day, never mind help you train. For a genius, Neji's not too bright, is he."

He waited a few seconds. Tenten looked like she was about to contradict him. She didn't.

"Maybe I can try talking to him again," she said. "He's probably closer to me than any of his own family, 'specially after his mom got tired of the special brand of Hyūga crazy and bolted. Deep down, I really don't think he's a bad guy. He just kind of… gave up." She looked up at Hinata. "But if you can throw him a lifeline… who knows?

"You'd do that?" Hinata whispered, her fingers pressed lightly to her lips.

"Sure thing," Tenten said. "Besides, missions would be a lot more fun if he wasn't moping about 'destiny this' and 'Main House that' all the freaking time. He's been really unhappy for as long as we've been friends, so if I can help, I'd like to try. Lee would too. Neither of us likes seeing him so depressed all the time."

"Naruto-kun… Tenten-san… thank you. Thank you so much."


	12. Chapter 12

Gonna try for shorter, more frequent chapters from now on. Really gonna. You know what I deliberately restrained myself from purchasing just so I could finish this story for you guys? Diablo III. You're welcome.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 12 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The sharply delineated pattern of rainfall across the mountain crests was not the only thing that separated Wind Country from its wetter neighbors to the east. If any of the genin had been called upon to describe it, the operative word would have been <em>poor. <em>Large swathes of it were too harsh for permanent settlement, peopled only by herdsmen and their families who teetered constantly on the brink of starvation. Itachi, the default leader of the expedition, kept the group well clear of their camps. It was not that he was afraid of these nomads, who often turned to banditry if an unforeseen tragedy robbed them of their flocks and livelihood, but because to accept their guarded hospitality would be taking food from the mouths of those couldn't spare even a scrap.

They were on the last day of their journey to Sunagakure, and the desert's brief yet violent spring made it miserable traveling. The rain lashing the foothills was brutal, slicking the dirt trail and loosening rocks that went bouncing down the cliffs with a heart-stopping clatter. It was devious stuff, seeping through the seams of their cloak and packs. Mud had saturated every pant leg and boot sole.

But then the sun cleaved through the clouds, and the scene spread out in the valley took their breath away.

"This is... this is a _desert_?" Naruto whispered to Sakura.

She took the space beside him on the small patch of level ground, brushing the locks of dripping hair from her eyes in disbelief.

The thorny shrubs and succulents had been buried under their flowers, and every patch of formerly bare sand boasted nodding poppies in red, yellow, and pure white. Bees droned industrially from blossom to blossom and tiny frogs called from the puddles. Sakura leaped down from the tiny shelf to pluck one of the flowers and tucked it behind her ear. The other genin and their instructors followed, pulling off rain cloaks and hoods now that the sky was indisputably clearing.

Hinata was next to reach the valley floor. Naruto plucked a handful of blossoms from beneath his feet and handed her the clumsy bouquet. "You like flowers, right? You used to stuff them between the pages of that big book to dry them out. I remember you were really proud of it."

"I... I... Ieeeeyes?" she stuttered, her cheeks flaming.

"For your collection," Naruto said, holding them further out to her. "Go on, you can take them. No bees. Checked."

She raised her hand, took a deep breath, and plucked the stems from his grasp. With the flowers almost crushed against her open jacket, she flashed him a shy smile through the petals before ducking her head and continued down the muddy path.

Kiba sauntered by next, hands in his pockets. Akamaru, as usual, was given the opportunity to survey the glorious scenery from his perch atop Kiba's head. "Well," he said, matching his pace to Naruto's so they were walking side by side. "Well, well, _well_."

"What's up with you?" Naruto asked. "She brought that big book of pressed flowers for Show & Tell once. She still keeps it up, doesn't she? I figured she could seal them up in her supply scrolls. Never seen these growing around Konoha."

Kiba dropped his voice very low. "_That's_ why you just handed her a bouquet? Are you seriously that stupid? Girl's got it for you _bad_—since we were, like, seven years old."

Before them, Hinata's feet stopped their treading through the gluey surface of the trail. She removed her nose from the flower petals tickling the tip, and turned. A look of utter despair had iced over the blissful smile on her face.

Kiba stopped too, and slapped his palm over his mouth after he realized what had just escaped. "Oops," he whispered contritely through his fingers.

The bouquet dropped to her side. "Why did you just… you promised you wouldn't… I… I… _Kiba_!" she wailed.

"I didn't mean to," Kiba protested. "It just kind of fell out! Maybe I'm doing you a favor since you'd never spit it out yours—"

"_Kiba_!" she wailed again. Tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes. Before the boys could witness the shame of having them fall, she took off running through the meadow, heedless of the spines still concealed between the blossoms.

Akamaru wiggled down until his paws were planted in the mass of fabric around Kiba's neck. The boy reached up instinctively to stroke the puppy's head for reassurance, at which point Akamaru opened his mouth and very deliberately closed it around the pad of flesh below Kiba's thumb. He jerked away with a yelp, dislodging Akamaru, who leaped down and began barking furiously up at Kiba. His teeth hadn't broken the skin, but there was a line of red marks down his thumb. "Ow! Akamaru!" he cried, cradling his sore hand. "It's not like I meant to make her cry!"

"Since we were _seven_?" Naruto whispered to himself, thunderstruck.

The commotion had drawn Sakura back to the cliffside. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes and a tension in her clenched fists. "Alright, who just made Hinata cry? She ran past me a second ago all sniffly." She looked at Neji first, who deliberately ignored her until he had finished wringing the water out of his hair. The only answer he gave was a jerk of his chin in Kiba's direction.

Ino, who had been working her way down the slick stones as she heard the drama play out before her, finally touched her toes to the valley floor and made a beeline for the guilty look on Kiba's face as well. She marched up to him and planted her hands on her hips. "Are you completely brainless? Even your dog is being more sensitive about this than you!"

"What's the big deal?" Kiba protested, although he was starting to wither under the two chilly female glares. "When my sister liked a guy, she'd just pull him into the linen closet in the kennels and bang around in there for a while," he said. "It's not complicated. Or any of your business."

"I'm making it my business, Team Poor Social Skills," Ino said tartly. "Kiba, I'm sure your sister is a very nice girl, but the Inuzuka's attitudes about this don't... match the Hyūga. Go get Hinata and apologize. Lots. Naruto…" she looked him up and down, "you'd better come with me. Buzz off, Forehead. This is private."

Sakura mouthed something extremely rude at Ino, but did trot off to find Tenten and Lee.

Naruto and Ino moved to the side of the pack, picking their way along a row of shrubby desert oaks, although they couldn't quite seem to lose Kakashi. Eventually Naruto realized it was intentional, and probably not because he had any interest in the love lives of thirteen-year-olds. Although Itachi never said it aloud, he was even more important to the security of the village than Sasuke. This stretch of sand was the last shot Akatsuki had at trying something unpleasant before they reached the safety of Sunagakure's walls.

Ino solved the problem for him by stopping and clearing her throat very loudly in Kakashi's direction. "Excuse me, sir, but do you mind…?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Kakashi said, and disappeared, splattering the spot he'd been standing with a fresh coating of mud.

The expression on her face said she didn't think for a moment he'd actually left, but at least they could now pretend to have a private conversation. Naruto kicked a stone out of his path. "I am so confused right now," he moaned.

"And rightly so," Ino agreed. "Luckily, I am an expert in unraveling these kinds of problems."

Naruto sighed. "I am the last person on earth to learn about this?"

"Pretty much," Ino said. "So… You've had a crush on Sakura since forever, but that doesn't seem to have gone anywhere."

"Not really," he answered. "Mostly she's been studying her brains out. And she's still hung up on Sasuke."

"Not going to lie, he's _the_ catch, but you're still the son of a Clan Head and you've got your fans. Not everyone is into the strong, silent type. You might be kind of clueless, but you know how to have a good time and you are a really, really nice guy." She flipped her long bangs out of one eye and grinned at him. "Some people really go for blonds, too."

"Wait… since when do I have fan_s_?" he asked. "Like, more than one?"

Ino giggled. "Like I said—you are so clueless. Hinata wasn't the only one. I think she just fell the hardest, and the rest of them flunked so you probably haven't seen much of them. So how _do_ you feel about her?" she asked, stopping to give him a critical appraisal. "As far as that girl's concerned, you're her One True Love. I think it's beyond adorable."

That had an uncomfortable ring of finality to it, true love. He didn't _dis_like Hinata, because she was about as offensive as a vase full of irises tucked into a display nook. It took serious effort to _notice_ the girl, never mind drum up any opinion about her. "I don't feel anything!" Naruto said, throwing up his hands. "I barely even know her! She only started talking to me since we entered the Exams. All this time I thought it was 'cause I smelled. If she was so crazy in love with me, she couldn't have let me know?"

"She was afraid to talk to you all this time because she doesn't like being… noticed. She's super sensitive—if you'd turned her down it would've hurt so bad she decided it's better to watch from afar and daydream. You've met her dad at those horrible birthday celebrations all us Clan Heads' kids were invited to—three guesses why she turned into such a mouse. I even offered to help her update her wardrobe to get your attention, but she insisted on wearing that beige sack with the ugly fur trim everywhere she goes. Lavender is really more her color.

"It's sad, really. She has a figure under there, although you'd never guess it, and if she'd just stand up straight instead of fidgeting _constantly_ she'd be really pretty. It's all about how a girl carries herself. Take me, for instance…"

Naruto continued strolling down the shady path with half an ear to Ino's chatter. If he felt anything for Hinata, it was pity. He'd never felt so lucky to have found the parents he did when he learned her own father planned to disinherit her for not living up to his ridiculous expectations. His mastery of the katon jutsu would never surpass the level of 'pathetic', and he would never awaken his sharingan, but Mikoto had gone out of her way to reassure him that those things never made him any less a child of the Uchiha.

She could use her byakugan, and the taijutsu style perfected for it. Maybe not on the level of a once-in-a-generation genius, but she could do it. It wasn't as though she was _that_ weak, either. Her help had been invaluable in locating Sasuke in the forest, protecting them from ambush on the way back, and, as he'd heard later from Sakura, she'd delivered the final blow that had brought down Temari, a tough-as-nails kunoichi if he'd ever met one.

He wasn't too sure about this One True Love business, but it sounded like what Hinata needed right now was a friend, and he could certainly manage that.

-ooo-

"Hinata?" Naruto called hesitantly. There weren't many places to hide in the flat country surrounding the hidden village, but so far Hinata was managing. Feeling like the worst friend in the world, Kiba had lent Naruto Akamaru to track her down again in the high dunes, a motionless sea of ochre sand. The dog yipped and trotted around a crest. He turned back to Naruto and nodded, urging him to follow. The grit on the wind had worn down the rock outcroppings in the trough into fantastical shapes, putting the sand gardens mere humans had constructed to shame.

Following Akamaru's prints in the sand, he found the crumpled ball of miserable Hyūga sitting in the shade of an pillar and sniffing into her jacket sleeves. Her byakugan wasn't active. When she realized the boy accompanying Akamaru wasn't her teammate, she stiffened but didn't bolt.

"Could you please not run away or scream or faint or anything?" Naruto asked. "I want to talk to you."

Hinata withdrew even further into herself, bringing the pads of her forefingers together to pump nervously. "I-I know you like S-sakura-san—a lot. She's so smart, and pretty, and brave, and an amazing healer, and so much more of all of those things than I could ever be. I never… I would never… I only want you to be happy with whichever girl you pick. I didn't think in a million years it would be me. So if you decide you don't love me back, I…"

Naruto sat down next to her. "Well, I don't really think I do, because–"

Hinata hiccuped, fresh tears pooling on her lashes.

"—I hardly know you," Naruto finished. "Please don't do that. I hate making people cry." He fished around in his pockets for a strip of bandaging for her to wipe her nose and held it out. "It's not like I think Sakura-chan is _better_ than you or something. You are really pretty too, and… no, no, no, Hinata, breathe. _Breathe_. If you almost faint whenever I say something nice about you, it's gonna be hard to keep a conversation going."

"S-sorry."

More awkward, awkward silence, as stifling as the hot sun.

"Have people, um, not done that very much?" Naruto asked finally.

"Not since Kurenai-sensei passed me," she answered. She bit her lower lip, trying to gather her courage for the next question. "Naruto-kun… since you're here, can I ask you something else?"

"Course. Anything."

"When we were in the forest together, and you were about to… um, about to defeat that blue-haired boy from Kiri?"

"You saw?"

Hinata started to squirm, like a line of invisible ants were marching across her toes. "I s-still had my byakugan going. I couldn't _not_. Your chakra was… like Gaara's. The color was all wrong. Humans don't have red chakra. And it felt so… so thick and strange. Sakura-san told me afterward I should ask the Hokage, but with exam being cancelled he was so _busy.._." Her eyes flickered up to him for a moment, anxious.

"Oooooh man," Naruto sighed, rubbing at his sweaty face with a free hand. "If I tell you what's up, you have to promise to keep it a secret—even from Kiba or Shino. And it's not just my secret. It's seriously A-Rank classified stuff. If you spilled it, 'specially to someone outside the village, they'd have tossed in prison, clan heir or not."

"I-I may not be much good at anything else, but I can keep a secret," Hinata whispered.

It got a little less nerve-shredding every time he tried this, although the words didn't flow easily yet. Hinata wasn't family. She didn't know him as intimately as Sakura had come to over these last months. She had no reason to trust him. But Hinata wasn't stupid, either, and if he didn't tell her now he would bet she'd figure it out eventually.

"The strange chakra you saw… wasn't human," Naruto explained. "It wasn't mine. I'm the vessel of the Kyūbi no Yoko. The Yondaime needed a newborn baby to seal it away and save Konoha, and that baby was… me. If you want to get up and leave now, I won't be mad at you."

Hinata unlaced her arms from against her knees and looked at him. The blood vessels at her temples dilated as she scanned him again with her byakugan. After a tense minute, she replaced her hands in the same position, knuckles together, and did not rise.

"You're really not afraid of me?" he asked.

Hinata shook her head, and then added, in a whisper. "Maybe a little. I can see it, now that I know what I'm looking for. Right there." She pointed at his belly. "It's like… looking into the sun through a pin-hole in a piece of dark paper."

Naruto smiled. Maybe she _did_ have a reason to trust him—and she was more courageous than she gave herself credit for. If she'd seen what he'd come a hairsbreadth away from doing to poor Chōjurō and still didn't run, there was more steel in her spine than he'd imagined.

"We should get moving. Don't want to hold everybody else up," he said, bracing a hand on his knee to push himself up. "You know, I never said I didn't want to be friends with you. If it's okay, we should do friend things sometime—work out together or go see a movie and then maybe get something to eat at Ichiraku afterward. You do like ramen, don't you?"

She nodded enthusiastically, working her way to her feet. "I-if you want, maybe sometime you could try mine. I worked really hard to figure out how to get the right springy-ness in the noodles just in case you and I ever…" She squeezed her lips shut, suddenly glowing crimson with embarrassment, and despite Naruto's quizzical look didn't finish the thought. "Well, um, it's probably not as good as Teuchi-san's, so on second thought, never mind."

"You did it again," Naruto said.

"Did what again?"

"Put yourself down without even giving it a try. You know why I think his soup tastes as good as it does? I mean… yeah, he's a really good cook, but besides that… ever since I was a tiny kid and the Hokage used to take me there, I knew I could just sit down and be _safe_. It made it taste ten times better. I wouldn't have to worry about anyone whispering about me or spitting at me because who'd dare with the Hokage around? I could look forward to being with the people that cared about me, with my belly full and all nice and warm from the inside out. It was the best feeling ever.

"I'm betting whatever you cooked for me would be just as good. For the same reason."

"Really?" she murmured hopefully. "When we get back home, I'll try."

"And Hinata? Whenever you feel like you're no good at something, say, 'Self? What would Naruto be telling me right now?' That's what I do. Works great."

-ooo-

By foot, there was only one way into Sunagakure, and only one way out. The village had been constructed inside a natural fortress carved into the rock sheet by the wind and the rain. The break in the walls was only wide enough for a few men to pass walking abreast, and the sandstone on either side was woven through with layers of protective seals. The small crowd of Konoha genin passed through the long shadows of the late afternoon and emerged into the village proper.

The buildings were of the same dun-colored material as the surrounding rocks, with heavy walls and small, squinting windows. They did not have the luxury of building the charmingly-tiled apartment blocks that suited Konoha's generally mild, moist weather; keeping the temperature stable between the searing highs at noon and the frigid lows at midnight was just about the only consideration.

Sasuke took a deep breath of the cool air beneath the wall and immediately sneezed. The inescapable dust blowing in from the plateau gave the air a gritty, nose-smarting texture. "I would kill for something cold to drink. I would," he said, screwed up his face, and sneezed into his sleeve again.

The native fashions had neatly solved Sasuke's current problem. Nearly every citizen sported long white or beige scarves thrown around their necks, which could be pulled up to shield the mouth and nose from the dust, or thrown over their heads to shades their eyes from the sunlight.

The jōnin stepped by the gatehouse one by one to present their travel passes while the genin fidgeted in whatever shade they could find.

"Think they have sodas here? Think they have refrigerators?" Naruto asked his comrades, as he tried unsuccessfully to blink a grain of sand out of his eye. His tone wasn't hopeful.

"And I am _starving," _Kiba added, crouching against a pillar. He eyed the merchant stalls around him. There wasn't much left of the open-air markets this late in the day.

A wizened nut vendor looked up at him from behind a pile of unrecognizable brown oblongs. His face bore more than a passing resemblance to the skin of the dried fruits piled in baskets around his crossed legs. "Hmph. Typical," he said, in a phlegmy voice. "There's a soda counter down the street a few blocks and to your right. We're not barbarians. Why, there hasn't been a camel stampede in six whole months!"

"You really have camel stampedes?" Kiba asked.

The nut vendor cracked a piece of his stock beneath his teeth and spit out the shells. "No. If you're not going to buy anything, shove off. You're blocking the way for my customers."

Her team's travel pass inspected and stamped, Kurenai picked up her wayward student by the elbow and pushed him forward. "Kiba, Naruto, don't be insulting. We're their guests."

"We made good time," Itachi commented, as he stowed his pass back in a vest pocket. "In fact, I think we are early. I have no objections to a slight detour for refreshments before we submit the official registrations at the Kazekage's tower. I am sure we can find something on the way."

"Sweet!" Naruto gushed. "Best sensei ever!"

The streets of Sunagakure were not easy to navigate; most of the twisting lanes were unmarked with street signs, and those that were had often gotten the characters worn into illegibility by the region's frequent sandstorms. Most of the storefronts were shuttered and dark.

"Parched," Kiba muttered, giving voice to what absolutely everyone else was thinking. "Dying. Where is this damn place? Why isn't anything open?"

They had found nothing that looked like a soda counter and were starting to suspect the old dry-goods seller had been looking to get rid of them. A quick scan by Hinata and then a very peeved Neji confirmed it. It was unfortunately that odd time of the day when many restaurants were closed between lunch and dinner service, and neither Hyūga could identify anything promising nearby.

Knowledge was power and admitting ignorance could be deadly. Consequently, most shinobi had a significant allergy to asking for directions. Naruto had no trouble at all with this, however, and while everyone else was testily discussing where to go next, he struck off alone down one of the many narrow alleyways. The nearest suspect was a girl with muddy brown hair and a tall camping pack lashed across her shoulders.

"Hi there," he said, coming up behind her as she finished retying a loose strap on her sandal. "I was wondering if you could tell me—"

"You're from Konoha!" she squawked, stumbling over herself in her haste to back up.

"Matsuri, run!" said another young voice from above their heads. "I'll distract him!"

"Distract me from what? All I wanted was some cola!" Naruto protested, and then yelped and threw himself against a wall when three shuriken went whizzing by his face. Before he could decide whether to retaliate, a green and silver blur had already disarmed his assailant, locked her arms behind her back, and slammed her face into the flat roof of the apartment building on which she'd been perched. It turned out to be another red-faced kunoichi in her teens, with dark brown hair falling out from underneath a head kerchief.

"I'm just going to stop you crazy kids riiight here," Kakashi said jovially. "Mind explaining those?"

The sound of metal striking stone had brought Itachi running, the rest of the group close behind, and then from the opposite direction came a native jōnin with a short spear clenched in his fist. The girl's captain was short, brown, and bony, with skin creased like leather from years under the merciless sun. "Sari! What exactly is going on… here?"

"This one yours?" Kakashi called to the Suna jōnin. "She attacked us for… reasons that aren't entirely clear."

"She is. There are," he paused to count up the heads visible down the street, "twelve of you here? Just walking around in the open?" He replaced the cap on his spear and brought his left hand to his face, pressing his hands to the bridge of his nose. Kakashi let his small captive go and they joined the rest of the group at street level.

Itachi took in their travel-stained clothing and the camping packs on their backs, hazarding a guess as to where the confusion had arisen. "We are here to register for the second stage of the Chūnin Exams. They were relocated here two weeks ago." He reached into his vest pocket to produce his travel pass and held it up for the older man to inspect.

"We've come a long way and we're thirsty and hot and would really, really like to find someplace to eat," Naruto said. "Unless that's not allowed here for some dumb reason?"

"Most everything is closed during the hottest part of the day; the village is liveliest after dark," he said absently. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" He grabbed ahold of the scarves each girl had tied around her neck and yanked them around the bend in the street.

"_Girls_…" he began, still completely audible to the rest of the Konoha shinobi, "you almost gave me a heart attack! That pale man with the long hair is going to be the next Hokage, and the one with the silver is Sharingan Kakashi. Infiltrators aren't going to be walking around in broad daylight asking where to find cold sodas. Don't be dense!

"Understand why I refused to recommend you for the Exams? Use your heads next time or someone is going to knock them clean off. Annoying the two most dangerous men currently serving in Konoha… of all the… go apologize until you can't breathe so _I _don't have to explain to the Kazekage why my two favorite genin died in front of a newspaper stand!"

The two girls scuttled out of the building's shadow, and began tripping over their tongues to apologize. Once they'd quieted, their teacher bowed so low he was practically kissing his knees. "Kei, jōnin. Again, I am so, so sorry, Uchiha-san, Hatake-san. My team just got back from a three-week C-Rank. I had no idea the venue for the Exams had changed, and when Matsuri said she saw an Uchiha in the village... I had to assume the worst."

"We're really sorry," the girls chorused for the thousandth time.

"An understandable mistake," Itachi said diplomatically. "If you would be so kind as to direct us to somewhere we could find a quick meal, I may be willing to forget this confrontation ever happened."

"The Sunrise Grill is our favorite," the man offered. "It's fast, cheap, good food. We were actually heading there until we ran into this... unpleasantness. Can we buy your team lunch and call it even?"

Itachi exchanged some glances with the other jōnin instructors. "I would think so," he said.

"This is coming out of your paycheck, Matsuri," Kei whispered, prodding the girl forward with the capped end of the spear in his fist.

She led them on a circuitous route through the narrow avenues. The shop could be smelled before it could be seen, the scent of roasting meat wafting over the entire block. It was run by a grinning, burly man and his two slightly-less burly sons, one tending the cash line and the other tending the grill, while their father working his way through slab after slab of meat, knives flashing. The kitchen was built around a pit of blackened stone capped with a wire grate and the products of his skill at the butcher's block. Tables and benches were scattered around the plaza. It reminded Naruto of Ichiraku is some completely indefinable way.

"What's your favorite thing to get here, Sari?" Naruto asked, looking over the menu scrawled on a square of slate. "It all smells so good I don't think I can pick."

"Lamb and cherry tomatoes over rice," she answered immediately, venturing a smile. "It's sort of sweet and tart and spicy all at once."

Naruto leaned over the counter, scrutinizing the offerings as they browned on the wooden skewers. "Why's the rice yellow?"

"They put saffron in it," she explained.

"Ah... saffron. Of course," Naruto said sagely, hoping with all of his heart that it wasn't a Suna-ese euphemism for fermented rabbit piss. Nothing in the back _smelled_ like fermented rabbit piss, but with foreign cuisine one couldn't be too careful.

The line was fairly short and moved briskly, and soon Naruto found himself at the head. "I'll have… um, um… that," he said, pointing at the mouthwatering concoction that had appeared in the hands of an earlier customer.

"Same for me," Sasuke said, leaning forward to get a better view of it himself.

Once all the orders had been placed, the jōnin took one table and the genin several others, which were hastily dragged together across the cobblestones with their matching benches. The food was dropped unceremoniously at another counter to be picked up, but the perfect char on the skewers of meat more than made up for the indifferent service.

Murmurs of appreciation were offered all around, with one exception—Neji took a hesitant bite from his plate, made a horrified face, and began coughing violently. He pushed the almost untouched contents of his dish in front of Lee. "I've suddenly realized I'm not hungry."

"Too spicy for you or something?" Naruto called, shoveling a heaping spoonful into his mouth. Then his eyes began to water. The valiant effort to swallow ended in him gagging into a napkin, much to the disgust of his tablemates.

Matsuri started to giggle. "Even I wouldn't eat a whole mouthful of _those_," she said, daintily distributing the red nubs she was indicating thoroughly through the bed of rice.

"Way to stand up for the Uchiha name, moron," Sasuke said under his breath, who had carefully followed the example of the native diners and mixed his plate well before digging in. "And yes, yes, you can have my water."

Hinata carefully placed half of her flatbread sandwich in a napkin, squared her shoulders, and walked over to where Neji sat. "H-here," she said, setting it down in front of him. "I couldn't possibly eat the whole thing. I got the chicken. It's not spicy at all."

"I'm not hungr—_augh_! What was that for?" he exclaimed, the ice in his voice completely shattered when Tenten kicked him—hard—under the table.

"You're as famished as the rest of us—I was listening to your stomach complain about it while we were in line," Tenten snapped. "Just take the stupid sandwich and thank her!"

From across the table, Lee stopped chewing and blinked at him expectantly.

"How gracious, Hinata!" Gai called from the teacher's benches. "Your teammates must be well-looked-after indeed."

Neji took a corner of the napkin between his pinched fingers and pulled it closer, defeated. "Thank you, Hinata-sama," he muttered. Once she sat back down at her bench, he took a bite and began chewing as sullenly as possible.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it," Tenten said out of the corner of her mouth. "And once we get checked in, you, me, and Lee are going to have a _talk_. Sensei is tying you to a chair if he has to."

It didn't take long for the food and drinks to disappear. When they were nearly finished, Sari stopped chewing and forced down the last mouthful of kabob with a wince. Her face took on a cast of unconcealed terror. "What's _he_ doing here?" she whispered. "And why's he coming _this way_?"

Naruto paused from sucking noisily at the last drops of soda left at the bottom of the bottle and looked up. The steady thumping of knives against the butcher's block had quieted. The villagers had, almost as one entity, suddenly found they had pressing business everywhere but this plaza. The braver ones, or those who didn't want to waste a good meal, were keeping their eyes firmly on their plates.

The sand scattered about the ground seemed to be dancing attendance on the new arrival, moving in elegant curls and against the wind. "You," Gaara said, coming to loom over Naruto. "You will come with me now. We have something to discuss."

"Sure," Naruto said. "But give me a minute—I'm almost done eating. Want to sit down while you wait?"

Bracing his hand on the weathered wood of the tabletop, Gaara leaned closer. "I said you will come _now_."

The two girls from Suna were shaking and Sasuke's eyes had gone crimson. Naruto had hoped someone speaking to Gaara like he was any other boy might put him at ease. It was what _he'd_ wanted when he'd been younger. Whatever this village had done to him, it was more intense than the veiled insults and crumpled candy wrappers that had been tossed at the Kyūbi's vessel.

Naruto dropped the last piece of meat on his plate in front of Akamaru and took a few steps away from the picnic tables. "All right, now is fine. Where do you want to—"

A sheet of sand separated from the ground and soared into the air, throwing him off balance. It deposited them atop one of the higher buildings and then melted back into its constituent particles. Naruto leaned over the edge and blinked down at the square, grimacing at the impact his wrists had taken. Neither Itachi nor Kakashi were still visible, although he couldn't see where they'd gone, either. They must have been equally curious to hear what Gaara had to say, and he was secure in the knowledge one or both jōnin would step in if the conversation got _really _ugly.

"When I met him in the forest, the dark-haired one said you were… like me," Gaara prompted. "I have my doubts this is true."

He couldn't fault Sasuke for breaking a law no one had told him existed. If Gaara already knew what he was, a few more details wouldn't hurt anything. "If you mean having a demon sealed inside me, then yeah, we are," he said. "Mine is the Kyūbi. It's a fox. What's yours?"

Upon hearing the name, Gaara flinched as if from a loud scolding. "Tomorrow, in the Exams. I will. I _will_! In the open ANBU won't let…" he said, and not to Naruto. "Let me ask him my question first!" With effort, he brought his hand down to his side and straightened again.

There was no one else here, which left two options: one, Gaara was hearing nonexistent voices and certifiably crazy, or two, there actually _was _a voice, and it belonged to his bijū. Naruto wasn't sure which was worse.

"The other Uchiha," Gaara started again. "He cares for you. He protects you. Why? If you are a demon like I am, how could you be so weak you would need it?"

There was so much wrong with that sentence Naruto didn't even know where to start. "Hey, hold on just a second!" he said. "You got two things wrong. I'm not weak and I'm not a demon. Neither are you. _That's why_. Gaara… look. I know what it's like. I really, really, really do. No offense, but I think you might've lost a few marbles on the way here, and I'm sure your family cares about you after all and this whole thing with your dad trying to kill you was a big misunder—"

The grains of Gaara's sand, spinning lazily through the thick air, froze suddenly in place. Naruto realized he had just said something very, very wrong.

"_You know nothing_!" Gaara screamed, as a miniature sandstorm gathered around his feet. "They all hate me! If I died tomorrow they would spit on my grave!"

There was a breath of gritty wind and a green flak jacket and a tail of dark hair appeared before Naruto's face. Six white-masked figures had settled on the roofs and balconies, ringing them in a loose circle. Gaara's face was still contorted with fury, but beneath that was another emotion Naruto couldn't pin down. Jealousy? Grief? Longing? After a few moments the sand calmed itself, although it still writhed in agitation around his ankles.

"Come to protect your precious weapon?" Gaara spat at Itachi. "Afraid he is so weak I will break him?"

"He is a shinobi of Konoha, my student, and my brother," Itachi said quietly. "I am not merciful towards those who threaten my family, so I will warn you only once: kill him, and you will make a lifelong enemy of the next Hokage. That is not something even a jinchūriki should take lightly."

Gaara's lip curled in a sneer, but the sand did completely withdraw. The Sunagakure ANBU agents encircling them stood down but did not disperse.

"For what it is worth, I would like you to know this, Gaara-kun. Naruto was not born into the Uchiha, and before he was offered our protection he suffered as you suffer. Your father should not have tried to raise a weapon instead of a son. It always fails—always. Now, if you are incapable of having a civil discussion with your fellow genin, I will have to ask you to go on your way."

"Gaara!" a girl called from the ground. "Gaara, please, please save it for the start of the Exams tomorrow. As a favor to your big sister? _Please_?"

Outnumbered and dizzy with questions, Gaara summoned a platform of sandstone to lower himself back to ground level. Naruto and Itachi made their way down using the exposed support beams and window sills.

Two more genin had arrived at the now nearly empty plaza. Temari, even in civilian clothes and without her tessen, Naruto recognized immediately. She had her hand on Matsuri's shoulder, and the other Suna girls had relaxed visibly in her presence. Her brother stood a little to the side, looking both extremely nervous and extremely annoyed. Without the puppet, the hood, and the makeup, he was much more difficult to recognize. In contrast to his sister's striking, flinty beauty, his face was rather plain.

Gaara spared her a brief glance and then looked back to Naruto. "If we meet on the course, I will attempt to... not kill you," he said, and flinched again from that inaudible voice. "No promises."

It was something. There was no telling if some sense had penetrated through the chinks of his insanity or if he was simply frightened of Itachi, but Naruto would take it. "Thanks. That's, um, pretty nice of you," he said.

Gaara ignored the compliment and turned to his brother. "I am thirsty," he announced. "Kankurō. You are going to get me a soda. A lemon one."

Kankurō continued eying his Gaara as if the slight young man was at any moment going to lunge forward and bite him, or possibly explode. "Did I just hear you…" he whispered to himself, and then added much louder, "Yes, yes I am."

The cashier behind the restaurant counter hastily handed Kankurō a bottle from the tub of slushy water without so much as glancing at his register. His breath stilled, Kankurō held it out to Gaara. Everyone froze as the sandstone stopper dissolved and a handful of particles whispered out of the gourd. The collective breaths were only released when Gaara used it to pop the cap of the bottle. He took a sip, smacked his lips together in satisfaction, and wandered back in the direction he'd come.

"Hey... Nee-san?" Kankuro asked, in the toneless voice of someone who has given up trying to comprehend his reality, "Did Gaara just threaten to _not _kill somebody?"

Temari crossed her arms over her chest and blinked at Gaara's retreating back. She continued blinking for a full five seconds before saying, "This is... odd."

"That's what I thought," he said. He brought his right hand to his chest in a half-seal, and whispered 'kai' under his breath. "Alright, rules that out." He grabbed his sister's wrist and slapped her palm against his forehead. "Am I feverish? Delirium would totally explain this. No wait... I've got it. Somebody slipped the funny cactus juice in my tea this morning and I have hallucinated this entire day so far!"

"Would you give me back my hand and stop acting like an idiot?" Temari whispered crossly, yanking her wrist out of Kankurō's light grip. "If you want to know what happened between those two, you can ask him."

"Nuh-uh," her brother whispered back. "No way. _You_ ask him."

With the quiet imposed by the Suna jinchūriki dissipating, conversation began to resume. The overly cheerful, subservient manner melted from Temari, and she again became the haughty girl Teams Seven and Eight had met in the forest.

She moved from her spot behind Sari and Matsuri and placed both palms on Team Eight's portion of the table. Her shadow fell across their plates. Hinata let out an unintentional squeak.

"I have you to thank for this scar," she said to Kiba, pointing to three long claw marks that began on her left cheek and continued past her jaw and into the high collar of her tunic.

"At least you've still got your figure?" Kiba commented under his breath.

Temari chuckled. "Why thank you, little boy, but I wasn't being sarcastic—I like it." Her fingers brushed lightly over the raised marks. "Lets people know I'm not the sort of kunoichi afraid to get my hands dirty." She shifted her weight until she was almost, but not quite, touching Hinata. "Neither are you, apparently, despite all outward appearances," she said over the girl's dark hair. "I'm looking for a rematch. Maybe without your friends this time."

"I-I couldn't have defeated you without them," Hinata whispered. "There isn't any shame in that. Y-you're one of the most powerful genin I've ever seen."

Temari snorted, which developed into another throaty chuckle. "And still the mouse holds her ground—I think I _like_ you. See that you make it through the course. I expect to see you in the finals." She gestured with her head for Kankurō to follow her. Sari and Matsuri got up as well and bowed briefly to Naruto and Itachi before both girls scampered after her as well.

Naruto was no longer in the mood to rejoin the table. "That wasn't how it was supposed to go," he said softly to Itachi. "We're the same age, we've seen the same things, and his village and my village are allies. I thought he'd want to be—"

"Friends?" Itachi shook his head. "It will take more than that. The citizens of Sunagakure have a much better reason to fear him than they had to fear you. You had the traditions of Uzushiogakure woven into your seal, and, at least until now, your demon has been very tightly bound. His is not. Personally, I think the Kazekage has been an utter fool not to ask for Konoha's assistance in the matter of the Ichibi no Shukaku, but there is no accounting for pride."

"What do you mean?" Naruto asked.

"He's killed noncombatants, Naruto. Several, and with little to no provocation. The assassination attempts were no mistake. Killing its host is the fastest and easiest way to extract and reseal a bijū. If Gaara were to lose control unexpectedly in the middle of a populated area, dozens of people would die in the attempt to restrain the Ichibi again. It is the only course left to the Kazekage to protect his people. I pity him too, but that boy is already lost. I suspect the only reason he was allowed to participate in these Exams was to give Sunagakure's ANBU opportunity to attempt another assassination without causing too many awkward questions."

"This is so wrong I don't even…" Naruto persisted. "How do you know? How _can_ you know? Maybe his seal isn't any better than mine. Maybe the reason he's so messed up in the head is because no one ever bothered to give him what Ka-chan gave me! You didn't hear him back in the Forest of Death. He calls that crazy monster his _mother_. His. Mother. I'm guessing it's because that's the only thing that's stuck by him all this time!"

"You are treading on dangerous ground," Itachi warned him. "I asked you to stay away from Gaara at the beginning of the second stage—his official rank may be that of a genin, but his sand shield gives even jōnin pause. This is no longer a request. It is an order. Risking your life for someone who does not even want your help is not wise."

"Well I've never been too bright, have I?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 13 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The sun had reached its apex when all the teams assembled before the course. It was outside of Suna's walls, a maze of slot canyons carved into the sandstone mesa. The dunes lapped at base of the rock. The fourteen teams that had entered Konoha's Forest of Death had been whittled down to only eleven. A handful of Suna chūnin, standing to the side with their hands clasped at their waists, had worked since dawn to ensure the test was sufficiently... interesting for those that remained.<p>

The jōnin proctoring the test was a very tall man with a lanky, speckled hunting cat sitting obediently at his side. He wasted no time once all the examinees had arrived. "To put it simply, the objective is for eight of you to make it through this course alive. You may do so by any means you deem necessary, including lethal force. Unlike Konoha's test..." he said the name with a faint sneer in his voice, "we do not require all members of a team to pass.

"Once you emerge from the canyon maze, my colleagues and I have taken the liberty of trapping the more open land in front of the bunker that is the finish line. There are four coded maps, and also four keys to deciphering those maps, including all text concerning the methods for disarming the traps. You may receive both, one, or neither of these items." He held up his hand to silence the immediate murmurs of protest. "On a real mission you will not have everything handed to you under gift wrap. Anyone who complains this is unfair will be immediately disqualified, and in my opinion ought to surrender their hitai-ate."

The volume of the muttering dropped precipitously, and he continued. "The test will end when eight of you have made it through to the finish line in fighting shape, or twenty-four hours have elapsed, whichever comes first. Medics will be stationed inside the bunker to treat the winners, and. once the test is officially over, will fan out to attend the injured still in the course."

He gestured with his chin, and a slim metal case was distributed to each team by the assistant proctors.

"Choose an entrance," he said, indicating the other splits in the massive wall of rock that spread out to either side. "But before you go, one word of advice to those who do not know the desert: in these canyons, water is both your greatest friend and your greatest enemy."

After each team had situated themselves, there was a loud pop from inside the canyons, and a starburst of brilliant crimson erupted in the sky–it had begun. The chain-link gates clattered upward. A stream was rushing cheerfully out of the opening Team Seven choese, which had stained a hand's width of the bottom of the gate with corrosion. The walls of the claustrophobic trail were shot through with layers of rust, cream, and copper–a beautiful setting, if their potential death hadn't been lurking inside. Sasuke activated his sharingan and motioned them forward. Once they were deep within the tunnels and out of sight of the other teams, he opened the case. It contained only a map scribbled with nonsense characters.

"Damn it," Naruto said. "Only one out of two. Now what?"

"We find someone with a cypher and then hit them until they give it to us," Sasuke replied sarcastically.

"A byakugan would be really helpful right now," Naruto complained. He wiped the sweat gathering at the back of his neck and sighed. "So is there anything in here that'll try to eat us?"

"Not much," Sakura said. "Wolves are rare this close to a city. There a few species of venomous snake, and lots of scorpions, but I can guarantee they're more scared of you than you are of them, and besides, most of the stings are more annoying than dangerous. It's the other genin we really have to worry about." She pinched at the tight collar of her dress, grimacing. "Them and sunstroke. It's less creepy but way more dangerous. Drink lots of water or your brain might cook inside your skull."

"Noted," Sasuke said. "Let's move out."

-ooo-

"We're lost," Sakura declared to the fuzzy afternoon sky. Although it had been clear this morning, wisps of cloud were gathering in the vast blueness.

"We're _not_ lost_,_" Sasuke insisted. He consulted his pocket compass and glared at the needle. It remained pointing stubbornly at a solid wall of rock where a trail was supposed to be. "According to the map, we're here." He replaced the compass in his pocket and jammed his finger at the intersection of two sets of squiggly lines. "And I am really, really good at reading maps."

Sakura looked down at the crumpled paper, then at the walls of the cliff behind her. "I have this feeling," she began, "that if we had a cypher, we would be able to figure out this bit next to our spot on the map says 'ha ha, suckers'."

"Would they really give out maps with the wrong trails marked on them?" Naruto asked. "That's so not fa–oh, wait. They would totally do that."

"This _is _a mission sim," Sasuke sighed. "We'd have to be prepared for it in real life, so I guess I can see why they'd do it: bridges wash out, avalanches destroy roads. It leaves us more exposed than I'd like, but we'll have to climb the walls and get on the plateau to get our bearings, and maybe see if we can ambush someone. The only team we know is weaker than us and doesn't have anyone that can see through solid rock is Ten. Decent chance they have what we need. They entered close to us, so we can probably find them."

"Do we have to?" Naruto asked. "I'd feel bad stealing from Shikamaru and Chōji."

"You'd feel worse if we got tangled up with a team we couldn't handle and lost our map, and maybe some body parts, to them instead. Come on… I know you three are friends; it isn't like I plan to kill them. Ino is useless in a fight and the other two are pushovers. We scare them a little and they'll buckle."

"I'm okay with that," Sakura added. "Now that I'm good enough to actually do it, I've been waiting for the chance to cram Ino's ponytail down her throat for months."

Naruto made a face and sighed. "This makes me feel… gross."

"Hn. You'll live," Sasuke said, cocking an eyebrow.

The canyon had the odd feature of being narrower at the top than at the bottom, and it was some time before they found a place they could squeeze through. Up close, what had appeared to be a perfectly level mesa was rutted with ridges and boulders lying here and there. A few hardy weeds eked out a living, buffeted by the wind. The heat outside the cover of the tunnel walls pressed down on them like an enormous hand.

Keeping low to the ground, Sasuke led them across the sun-baked sandstone to the lip of another ravine. He stopped next to a thorny shrub with its roots buried in the sides of the tunnel, wrinkling his nose. He bent and swiped the traces of powder from the rough leaves and sniffed his fingers tentatively. "Huh," he grunted.

"What's 'huh'?" Naruto asked, crawling next to him. He shook out the burning sensation in his hands. The rock was so hot it was painful to touch with his exposed skin. The clatter of soft stone coming loose and a stifled yelp from Sakura snapped him upright. "Sakura-chan? What happened, are you okay?"

She groaned. "All that rain this week must've loosed up the sandstone. Didn't fall far but I think I might've twisted my ankle. Can you help me up?"

Sasuke grabbed a handful of Naruto's t-shirt and pulled him back, pressing a finger to his lips to still the embryonic complaints before the blond could voice them. He made his way to the location of Sakura's voice instead, activated his sharingan, and bent over the narrow gap. She was curled up on an extremely narrow ledge with one hand clutching her injured leg.

"Who was our homeroom teacher the first year of the Academy?" he asked.

"Mizuki-sensei," she answered immediately.

"Just checking," he said, pressing his belly against the rock. "Here, can you reach my hand? Try pulling yourself up with those roots."

She did as he instructed, wincing at the pain of maneuvering herself in the narrow space with her twisted ankle. Once she'd struggled over the edge, Sasuke's concerned expression dropped like a stone and he flipped her on her back and pinned her there, with one wrist above her head and the other at her side.

"Ino, get out," he ordered.

The girl's facial features rearranged themselves slightly, becoming somehow less _Sakura_. She parted her lips slightly and moaned in a way that made Sasuke want to let go of her immediately. "Aw, Sasuke-kun. How'd you know it was me?"

"Because Chōji left barbecue-scented dust all down the trail, and Sakura would have been perfectly capable of healing something so minor and then pulling herself out using that rock spike and her chakra wire. Out." He tightened his grip on her wrist, making her wince. Naruto finally scuttled up to glare at Ino as well.

Ino composed the features of her borrowed face. "Be gentle with me or you'll hurt Forehead, remember?" she giggled, and closed her legs more tightly around Sasuke's. "At least let me have a little fun before you thrash us?"

"Get. _Out_," he repeated.

She raised her head a little, ignoring the command to gaze down the length of Sakura's red qipao. "Geez, she really _is_ flat as a board. Never gonna snag her prince this way. Too bad, so sad." She grinned brilliantly up at Sasuke. "I'm almost at a C-cup and still going. Maybe you've noticed?"

"I don't judge women by… by their breast size!" Sasuke stammered.

"Got nice full hips too, if that's more your thing."

Sasuke firmly quashed the impulse to let go of her, since if he did she would be in an excellent position to slam her knee into very tender places. "Ino, stop talking. Just stop. Your chances of landing a date with me are zero. Less than zero. You are so irritating I will be _actively avoiding you_ in all social situations from now on. Got it?"

Although he usually found a flustered Sasuke to be hilarious and under other circumstances would gladly have joined Ino in teasing him, Naruto had to look away. Although he _knew_ the words were Ino's, the voice was Sakura's. The body was Sakura's, the face was Sakura's, the lips were Sakura's. Watching her and Sasuke so close they could almost taste each other's breath sent a shiver across his chest.

"Ino, it's not funny anymore. _Stop_. I–" Naruto began, but choked on the words as he felt a foreign presence grab hold of his limbs and swiftly manuever them according to its own design. His fingers darted into his thigh pouch and withdrew a kunai, and his legs bent themselves into a crouch. His knife had laid itself across the back of Sasuke's knee, ready to sever his hamstrings. "_Arm_!" he shrieked in horror. "_Stop that_!"

Sasuke stiffened, but, since he was still restraining Ino, there was very little he could do to defend himself until her technique's time limit elapsed.

"Why don't you give up whatever you've got?" Shikamaru said from somewhere nearby. "Not going to kill you, obviously. A good medic can knit these tendons back together, but you'll be off the field for a good month or so."

Sasuke grit his teeth. "I suppose the barbecue flavoring on those bushes was intentional."

"Yeah," Shikamaru agreed. "Assumed you'd be one of the first to come after us, and only someone from our class would know what it was. I'm not kidding about that kunai. Really, really sorry, Naruto. Going to have to get you, too."

Suddenly, the body beneath Sasuke spasmed, the mind caught in some sort of conflict he could not perceive. Ino's moment of inattention was all the opening Sasuke needed. He shifted his weight as hastily as he could, so the downward stroke of Naruto's kunai only grazed the back of his knee. His sharingan granted him the prescience to whip around and disarm his brother. The barely visible thread of shadow that terminated behind a tumble of jagged boulders was now glowing brilliant blue.

"Eat that, Pig!" Sakura said triumphantly from behind him.

"That stone shaped like a mouse!" Sasuke called, as he struggled to hold Naruto down without injuring him. In pure strength they were evenly matched, and it wasn't easy. "Kick it over! Break the shadow's anchor!"

Sakura quickly did as he ordered, and the slender black line recoiled as Shikamaru found his kagemane no jutsu badly overextended. With a relieved sigh, Naruto abruptly stopped trying to choke the breath out of Sasuke and let his arms flop out to his sides.

"Crap," Shikamaru muttered, as Sasuke disappeared and reappeared between two of the rock spikes. Sakura had shaken off the lingering disorientation caused by Ino's technique and joined him. Now that his limbs were again his own, Naruto followed.

Chōji was holding up a very woozy-looking Ino. She paused from rubbing her temple with the heel of her hand and blinked at Sakura in awe. "How did you… how did you even _do_ that? No genin's supposed to be able to… it's practically unbreakable!"

Sakura snorted. "No jutsu is unbreakable. I asked Itachi-sensei all about the Yamanaka techniques for just this occasion. So like I said… _eat that_, Pig."

"We are so dead," Chōji sighed, pulling his teammate up.

"I don't suppose there's any way we could talk you into an alliance, like you did with Kurenai's team?" Shikamaru asked nervously. "We've got the map and the cypher."

Sasuke looked over the three of them, unimpressed. "An alliance implies a certain give-and-take. We teamed up with Eight because they had something to offer–their scouting abilities. You have thirty seconds to convince me not to take your cypher and leave you all tied up at the bottom of the ravine. Talk fast."

"When I say I have the cypher, I mean up here." He pointed to his temple. "I cracked the code. You can't exactly beat that out of me, can you?"

A snort of laughter burst out of Naruto. "Pfft. Hah. Nice try. You failed the code-breaking unit in the Academy just like I did."

Shikamaru gave them a wry smile. "I only bombed that test because the messages were so dead easy I didn't bother showing my work. Mizuki-sensei assumed I must've been cheating and flunked me."

"You got slapped with Dead Last the entire time we were in the Academy," Sakura said. "Your ambush was put together pretty well, I'll admit… but you seriously expect us to believe you're some kind of code-cracking super-genius?"

"Well, actually he's sort of an everything super-genius," Chōji offered.

"He's just the laziest freaking slug in all the shinobi countries," Ino quipped. "As long as I'm around to slap the daydreams out of him, you aren't going to find anyone more capable of locating and disarming the traps spread out on the plain. There are only four cyphers total, and you have no idea who else's got one, do you?"

Sasuke withdrew the map and unfolded it, holding it up for Shikamaru's eyes. The other boy rose slowly from his crouch to get a better look. "Prove it," Sasuke said. "Decode this message on the trail mouth leading to the finish line."

"On the condition that you surrender your map," Shikamaru countered. "You're sharp enough that you might just be able to crack it with a hint like that."

"That conveniently has you giving the three of us orders," Sasuke pointed out.

"That is the major flaw in this plan. How troublesome." He yawned, barely covering it with the back of his hand. "I'm not going to send you face-first into a string of exploding tags or something. You can take the rest of Chōji's potato chips hostage as insurance."

"_Shikamaru_!" the appalled Akimichi exclaimed. He thrust his hand into his belt pouch and drew out not a handful of shuriken but his last bag of snacks, cradling the potato chips with the delicacy and tenderness normally given to a newborn kitten. "Over my cold, dead body!"

"Oh for the… they're just chips, I don't even want them!" Sasuke said, exasperated. "Sakura, they're getting on my nerves. Just tie them all up and get Shikamaru to hallucinate his mother screaming at him until he agrees to cough up the cypher."

She sent the wire darting out, swift as the strike of a serpent, to coil around Shikamaru's wrists and jerked him to his knees.

"Sakura, wait," he said. "Any way you slice it, I still owe you a _big_ favor from that day Iruka-sensei…" He dropped his eyes and swallowed hard. "You saved my life and I never got the chance to settle the debt. As long as we're together, I'll do my best to see that you and your team make it to that bunker in one piece. Do we have a deal?"

All of their faces sobered at once. Sakura let her wire go slack and spooled it back into the hollow bracers as her sign of agreement. She looked to Sasuke for the final order.

"Deal," he agreed.

-ooo-

The sole opposing genin the two teams encountered had turned tail and run after she'd realized how severely outnumbered she was, flapping madly to extinguish the warning shot Sasuke had launched at her trailing obi. They continued on as the sun set, with little fanfare.

The darkness was when the desert truly came alive. Night fell with a veil of blessed coolness as they reached a crossroads in the canyons. The sky was a cacophony of bats trying to catch their dinner on the wing. With Shikamaru leading them they'd made excellent time, and were under an hour away from the nearest exit. It was more open here, and between the high walls the stars were partially shrouded in thick clouds.

In a test only twenty-four hours long, there was no time to waste on sleep, no matter how well they'd done so far. They broke formation to refill their water bottles and scrub some of the dust from their faces in the clear pools of rainwater that had collected in several bowls carved into the boulders. The depressions were too regular to have been the result of erosion; this place had probably been used as a testing ground before.

Sasuke took the one farthest from where they'd come in, disappearing around the cracks between two of the rocks and kneeling by the water. Sakura slipped silently after him.

He pulled a seal-inscribed sheet of paper from his supplies, dipped his pinkie finger in the water, and let a drop fall on the center of the seal. It flashed blue and the chakra-saturated ink disappeared. "It's clean. Should I poison it after we've had our fill or are you feeling generous? I have some concentrated spikeflower sap."

"Ingested spikeflower takes too long to incapacitate," Sakura commented, her gaze elsewhere. "I personally wouldn't waste it. The test will be nearly over by the time it really kicks in."

Sasuke shrugged and uncapped his canteen. He dipped it in the water, filling it as high as he could, and then motioned to Sakura to hand him hers. "Chōji doesn't brag and he doesn't lie," he told her quietly. "Dead Last or not, I think Shikamaru might really be as smart as they said he was–after all, he nearly got _us_. The only variable he failed to account for was your being able to knock Ino out of your head, and even _I_ didn't know you were strong enough to do that."

Sakura knelt opposite him, resting her elbows on the lip of the shallow pool and cupping her chin in her upraised palms. "Impressed?"

The containers filled, Sasuke skimmed his hand through the pool and pressed the lingering moisture against his cheeks and neck. His lips tilted in a smile. "When the team placements were announced, I was so angry at Itachi-sensei for picking you to fill it out I wanted to smack him. I thought I was doomed to spend my entire career as a genin pulling you out of trouble until you either died or got so fed up with doing actual work that you quit."

"Sasuke…" she murmured, hurt.

He dipped his hand into the water again and used it to cleanse the dust from his brows and lashes. "Sensei was right, though. He saw something in you I didn't, at least not back then. I can't believe Ino is still going at it just like she used to–all those hair products probably rotted out her brain."

They were so close Sakura could feel the tension sparking between them. She'd been able to hear everything he'd said to defend her, even though Ino had stolen control of her limbs and tongue. Sasuke no longer made even a pretense of being irritated by her presence. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he respected her as a teammate and as a friend.

It was beautiful here, the gossamer track in the sky seeming to stretch on forever, and they were, for the moment, alone. Sasuke's eyes were still shut against the drops of water slipping down his face. Before he could dry them on his high collar, Sakura made her decision.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. His canteen was knocked from the ledge and splashed its contents into the sand.

He stiffened against the brush of her palm beneath his chin. "Sakura!" he hissed. "Why…?"

"Because I might not get another chance, that's why," she whispered fiercely, after they parted. "If we pass, we'll all be able to lead teams of our own. We'll all be taking C- and B-Rank missions. Every time one of us leaves the village, we might not come back. _That's why_. I thought you'd started caring about me the way I care about you!" She let her hand slide down the fabric of his shirt and drop back into her lap. "Well? Do you?"

Sasuke grabbed his half-empty canteen and scrabbled backward, his face a whirlwind of confusion.

"Yes or no?" she pressed, rising.

"Not the time, Sakura," he muttered, turning away to rejoin the others. "_Not_ the time."

-ooo-

Sasuke ducked around the cover of the rocks, scrubbing water from his face with a sleeve. He averted his eyes and made to brush past Naruto without speaking. His brother calmly stowed the handful of ration bars he'd intended to share with Sasuke and Sakura in his jacket pocket, balled his fingers into a fist, and stepped forward to drive it as hard as he could into Sasuke's stomach.

Caught utterly off guard, Sasuke doubled over and dropped to knees, gasping.

"Sasuke-kun!" Ino cried. "What just–"

"You promised me you wouldn't," Naruto said savagely. "You _promised_!"

Sasuke's sharingan wavered belatedly over his attacker, looking for some trickery that wasn't there. No bunshin, no henge, no genjutsu. Just Naruto, looking at him like he'd just seen… oh, no.

"That wasn't what you think!" Sasuke finally forced out, still curled up in the sand. "She just grabbed me and–"

He cut short the excuses by grabbing Sasuke by a handful of his collar and shoving him against the cliff wall with strength his small body should not have possessed.

"Naruto, let him go, he really didn't do anything," Sakura said, jogging towards them. "I'm so, so sorry, I didn't realize you…"

"So this wasn't the secret?" Naruto asked Sasuke, ignoring her. His breathing was almost a growl. "This wasn't what you were so afraid to tell me? That you finally figured out Sakura-chan _isn't_ just another one of your brainless fangirls? We're supposed to trust each other. Always. But you… you_ lied _to me!"

"No, I…" Sasuke began.

"No what? Swear on your dad's grave you never meant to betray anyone in Team Seven. Swear the thought never even popped into your head. _Do it_!"

Sasuke remained silent, his teeth clenched around an oath he couldn't make. It wasn't Naruto he'd ever intended to betray, as if that would have been any comfort.

A new wave of anguish crashed down on Naruto, flowing across his eyes to tinge his vision red at the edges. He was caught in the whirlpool, and he could feel it pulling him down. A bark of cruel laughter only he could hear echoed down the canyons. Sasuke wasn't fighting him. He wasn't even struggling, paralyzed by the information pouring into his sharingan. The look of shame was breaking apart by bits and pieces, and beneath it was pure fear. Naruto realized he was holding Sasuke against the stone with only one hand, and the nails had become keen, curving claws.

He slammed his will down on the rage and the hurt, the tendrils of darkness the Kyūbi was using to pry open his cage. If Sasuke was going to pay for this, it would be on his terms, not those of a demon. The fingers he'd twisted into the fabric of Sasuke's shirt released and he threw his brother aside. "Get out of here!" I don't even want to look at you."

"Wait, Naruto…" Sasuke began.

"_Leave_!" he snarled in response.

Sasuke obeyed this time, grabbing Sakura and pulling her along with him, still hunched over from the pain radiating from below his breastbone.

"Sakura, hold on," Shikamaru called after them, finally breaking the paralysis of disbelief that had gripped him and his teammates as they looked on. "I'll copy out the cypher for you."

Naruto turned against the canyon walls with his eyes squeezed shut, and stayed there until he could no longer hear their footsteps. The blinding, white-hot anger had subsided to a smolder, leaving only an empty feeling where the trust he'd shared with Sasuke had been. He could feel the Kyūbi picking and prodding at the sore spot, whispering on the threshold of his hearing. That was why he ordered Sasuke away. He couldn't trust _himself_.

Afraid of what might meet them, he opened his eyes and flexed his fingers. They looked perfectly normal, the nails square and thin and human. He sucked in the deepest breath he could and blew it out in a rush. It took a few more until he found the courage to lift his forehead from the sandstone.

As soon as he had wrestled himself under some semblance of control, Chōji crouched by his side to give his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and a hand up. "You know you're more than welcome to stay with us. She knows how you feel about her. She's got to. I can't imagine how anyone could be so thoughtless."

Ino swept her long bangs from her eyes to look down the deserted trail Sasuke and Sakura had taken. "_I _could," she said. "She did the same thing to me three years ago."

"I thought you were the one who…" Naruto began, halfheartedly dusting himself off.

Ino shook her head, her arms crossed over her chest. "She remembers it the way she wants to remember it–that's our Sakura. You know how shy she used to be when we were little. I felt so bad for her, so I really made an effort, you know? I gave her my favorite hair ribbon, introduced her to my friends, talked down the older kids that would pick on her. And then when she realized I liked Sasuke-kun too–poof. Gone. We turned into enemies overnight.

"You want my advice? Kick that bitch to the curb, if you'll excuse my language. When she turns on you, it happens like a lightning strike. No warning, no make-ups, no nothing. You deserve better, Naruto. You really do."

"She's different now. I don't know why she did what she did… but she's _different_," Naruto insisted. "Besides, it's not her that I'm angry with. Mostly not," he clarified. "Sasuke's never… never done anything like this to me before, and it just hurt so–"

A single pair of footsteps returned, and Shikamaru emerged from the gloom. "Naruto…?" he said. "I'm sorry about all this, I am, but it isn't the time or the place. This course is still enemy territory. We have to focus if we out of this place alive. They took the southeast branch; we take the northeast. We gotta move."

-ooo-

Another bolt of lightning rent the night sky, followed even more closely than the last by a roar of thunder that echoed down the canyon. The clouds were a murky sea of ink, roiling in agitation. The temperature had dropped so precipitously all four genin were shivering in their summer wear.

"I've never seen a storm move in this fast!" Ino said in awe, massaging the goosebumps that had appeared on the exposed skin of her shoulders.

Shikamaru drew his hand along the canyon wall, sullying his fingertips with dried mud. The crust cracked and a piece fell to the ground. He craned his head back and winced when a drop of rain pricked him in the eye. Shikamaru's usual expression was one that gave most people the impression holding his eyelids open was a chore, but when he turned back to his team his eyes were wide.

"Is something wrong?" Chōji asked, ever quick to read the subtlest change in his best friend's demeanor.

"We need to find higher ground," Shikamaru said. "_Now_."

"Won't we be too exposed on the plateau?" Ino asked. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No choice," he answered. "You remember the proctor's warning? You'd think finding water in a desert would be our biggest problem. It isn't. It's the water finding _us_. What we're standing in is about to become a riverbed, and judging by how high up these silt deposits go and how fast those clouds moved in, it's going to do that really, really, really fast. We've got to keep going and hope the cliffs open up ahead. It's too narrow to climb here."

More drizzle began to hiss into the muddy streambed as he spoke. Within a minute the drops had tripled in volume. After five they had more or less ceased being drops at all, and fell in sheets so thick it became difficult to breathe without choking. True to the proctor's warning, the stream swelled as they walked, first to their ankles, then knees, then thighs. The current tugging at their legs threatened to rob them of their footing in the soft mud with every step they took. Debris began to wash past them, seen and unseen. A stone tumbling down the ravine struck Shikamaru in the ankle and he cursed as he pitched forward. Only Chōji's hand closing around his jacket saved him from being swept away.

"Good enough!" Shikamaru called over the roaring water. "We'll have to try squeeze through here or we're all dead!"

Ino was first to try scaling the walls. She worked her fingers into a crevice and tried heaving herself up, but nearly broke her nose when, even with chakra to anchor it, the sole of her sandal slid right off the stone. "It's so muddy I can't get any kind of grip!" she cried.

Naruto tried next, and only made it to waist height before slipping down as well. He huffed in frustration and tried again, with the same result.

"Shikamaru… what do we do?" Chōji asked desperately.

"I don't–"

"Wait! I got this one!" Naruto interrupted. "Everyone, get behind me," he called, and struggled back upstream to wedge himself in a crack in the wall so he wouldn't lose his balance. He waited for the next lightning strike and its brief illumination to outline his target. The pine grasping a rocky shelf halfway up the cliff had once been mighty, but the years had stripped it of much of its bark and branches–enough that it looked like it would just fit between the cliff walls. He laced his fingers together to prepare a wind blade. With the next rumble of thunder he released it from between his lips. The tightly controlled whirl of chakra sheered through two-thirds of the trunk with the precision of a band saw. His intuition was spot-on; the wood screeched as it toppled, the trunk just clearing the lips of the cliff as it crashed into the river.

"Made us some stairs. Good thinking," Shikamaru said. "Your control is _loads_ better than I remember or I would have suggested that myself."

Chōji was first up, using the stubs of the broken branches to steady his ascent. He unwrapped the white scarf from around his neck and tied it around the jagged stump. Twisting the free ends in his fist, he readied himself to provide a helping hand to the next genin up. Shikamaru made it to the notch in the cliff without incident, but even in the brief time it took him to scale the trunk, the tree began to bob and twist as the buoyant wood was lifted from the ravine floor by the rising water. When Ino place her foot on the bark and removed her weight from the ground, there was a sickening splintering sound from deep inside the ends of the wood.

"We'll go up together," she said to Naruto. "This won't hold for much longer. Try to balance your weight against mine as best you can."

He nodded in agreement and took the opposite side. The splintering sound only grew louder as they picked their way up. "Come on, Ino, come on!" Chōji said frantically, reaching down as far as he dared.

When she was nearly to safety, the wood gave one final lurch that twisted it free of the remaining fibers anchoring it to the cliff. Ino screamed as she felt the momentum began to turn her upside down. She tried throwing her weight to the other side to stabilize their makeshift ladder, but it did no good. On instinct, Naruto gave her one hard shove from behind and Chōji's fingers closed around her wrist. He cried out in pain at the sudden stress on his shoulder as she lost her footing, but didn't let her go. Shikamaru dropped to his belly, straining to grab Naruto's hand without being pulled over himself.

One final push, and he felt… Shikamaru's hand brush against his fingertips as the trunk rolled free and dropped towards the river.

He was thrown into the churning water, and with a tremendous crash the tree followed. Naruto tried to dive, but in the darkness and the cold and the pounding rain he couldn't find enough breath. The water had risen so high he couldn't keep his feet–he was at the uncaring whims of the flood, and it was bearing the pine down towards him.

A protrusion in the canyon wall caught him in the back, and he scrabbled for a handhold; he couldn't find one on the slick sides. A bubble of panic rose and burst in his chest as he realized all he had accomplished was allowing the tree to catch up with him. The broken ends of the dead branches were like spears. He felt the weight of it crash into him, driving one of the jagged tips into his side. His head went under, filling his nose and mouth with water so thick it was almost mud. The ravine narrowed suddenly and the tree wedged in place, pinning him beneath the surface, stuck through like a butterfly pinned to a display board.

All around him was pain and the desperate, all-consuming need for air. His head emptied of every thought but one: _I'm going to die. Help me._

Seconds passed. He felt himself slipping beneath the surface of consciousness.

And then… then he broke through into somewhere else entirely.

-ooo-

The water had stilled and the rain was gone. He found he could stand; the depth of the tepid liquid barely reached his sandal straps. It smelled musty and rotten, like it had been standing undisturbed in this stone passageway for years. The tunnel behind him seemed to extend into infinity, the doorways lining each side black and featureless. This wasn't the Pure Lands, wherever he was. He wasn't really much for theology, but he was one-hundred percent sure good people didn't end up in an afterlife that smelled this bad.

There was red light staining the path before him. It rippled in steady time, matching the slow, growling breaths he could hear beyond the arch. He rose to his feet to follow it to its source. The first thing that met his eyes was the gate of unearthly gold, so high the frame disappeared into the ceiling. Pressed against it was a grin of ivory teeth as long as his arm.

_Now_ he knew exactly where he was.

"How did I… get here?" Naruto whispered to himself.

"What a question. You called me, my dear child," the Kyūbi rumbled. "Come closer so I can get a better look at you."

"I didn't. I told you to get lost!" Naruto said, planting his feet even more solidly in the scummy water.

"Ah, but you did," the demon said with cloying sweetness. "You are dying, you see. You cried out for help. I answered. I can give you what you need to save yourself. All you have to do is ask. My chakra is yours whenever you wish."

"Why do you care?" Naruto asked. "If I die, do you die too?"

"Not exactly," the demon explained. "We bijū cannot be killed. But re-corporeating after a vessel dies is a tedious and extremely unpleasant undertaking, and is something I would prefer to avoid at most any cost."

"Then give me what I need to get us out of this, not a _drop_ more, and we can get this over with," Naruto said.

"In time. Which, by the way, flows differently here," it added. "While we speak, you are in no danger of expiring yet. As long as I have your attention, there are things we ought to discuss." The smile on its face, as welcoming at the rictus of a skull, spread even wider.

"No. Cough up the chakra. What else do you want from me?"

"Want from you? Nothing much." It lowered its face to be eye to eye with Naruto. The slitted red orbs were bigger than his head. It crossed its disturbingly humanoid arms on the ground to rest its jaw on its wrists. "I saw what he did to you. It hurts, doesn't it?" The demon's voice was a velvet purr. "That is the price one pays for trusting another. I could help you. I could make him pay. All you have to do is peel back that seal between the doors, just that insignificant scrap of paper, and the power you need to take your revenge would be yours. It won't be the last time someone you love will turn on you, and when they do–"

"_Shut. Up," _Naruto said through clenched teeth. "I'm never letting you near Sasuke. Just because I'm so angry I want to rearrange his pretty girl face 'til his own mother can't recognize him doesn't mean I'm going to let you kill him! I am never, ever, _ever_ picking that seal off, and if you try to worm your way back into my head the way you did before, I'll, I'll–"

Seeing that the subtle approach had failed, the Kyūbi growled and swiped ineffectually at Naruto through the bars. He threw himself backward and the claws struck stone. The demon's face had contorted in rage. "You naive, idiotic child! Do you know what I have seen? There's no true kindness in this world!"

"Get us both out of this," Naruto said, picking himself up from the muck. "You have plenty to lose. I'm never taking what you have to offer and you'd better believe it!"

The demon growled deep in its throat, making the gate and stones vibrate with a frustration Naruto could feel in the pit of his stomach. The buzzing subsided as it composed itself again–despite the outburst, it was by necessity a patient creature. "You care for your family? More than anything?" the Kyūbi asked mockingly, drawing back into the darkness of the cage.

"More than anything," Naruto repeated.

A smirk of satisfaction ghosted across the yellow teeth. "Oh, I believe you. Truly, I do." As it spoke, a trickle of shining water emerged from between the bars of the cage. "What you have asked for and no more," it said, as the glowing liquid swirled around Naruto, rising and rising until he was subsumed in it. He could feel the strength of the demon's chakra as it soaked into every fiber of his being. As the water blocked his ears, he heard, faintly, the rumbling voice ask one final question, "But what price would you pay to protect one of them, I wonder?"

And then, he was back inside himself. Water battered him from all sides. He reached up with one shimmering hand to grip the smooth ravine wall, digging the supernatural claws deep into the sandstone, and with the other he sheared through the branch pinning him to the bottom. He pulled the piece of broken wood free and tossed it away. The searing pain ceased immediately as the jagged hole in his side knit itself shut.

The demon's chakra claws bit into the stone as if it were soft as dough. Naruto began pulling himself up the side. He landed on all fours and took off loping across the plateau like a beast of prey. The rain falling on him boiled away before it could reach his skin. Although part of him knew he should, knew he _must, _the chakra cloak was too glorious to relinquish. His senses were ablaze with information. It felt so good. So right. Like he was invincible.

The inhuman pace brought him to the second half of the course almost before he realized it. A single leap returned to the ground. He blew through the seals and trip wires strewn about the plain without a care. He could reach the finish before dawn at this pace, and then…

He stopped–his keen nose scented blood. He straightened from the animal crouch to follow it down the path of an arroyo that cut between two low hills. The rusty tang in the air grew stronger, making his mouth water in anticipation for what he might find.

When he rounded the bend, he found the source. But they weren't genin–they wore ANBU masks, beacons of white in the darkness, eight at least. Half of them were no longer moving. The lightning flashed again. Their target was wavering on his feet, the silhouette monstrous, no longer fully human… Gaara.

The surviving ANBU had noticed him and the flickering chakra enveloping his body like a torch in the rain. That lightning strike brought its brief illumination to Naruto's spirit as well as his eyes. They were here to kill the Suna jinchūriki, just as Itachi had suspected, a boy too dangerous to let live. His bijū had taken his mind, warping his soul until even his own father saw no choice but to take the life of his own son.

Just like the Kyūbi had begun to do to him.

The ANBU assassination squad immediately split in two, going to determine the strength of this new threat. Part of him wanted to keep running so he could have the pleasure of ripping them limb from limb. He'd asked for so little from the Kyūbi. He had only to ask again, and enough to flatten these ants would be his for the taking.

One glance at the sand consuming Gaara's delicate face like a cancer had him hurl that thought from consideration. He did as he had before, in the Forest of Death, clinging to the pillar of what he'd decided a shinobi ought to be–someone with the strength and guile never to take a life unless he had no other choice. He let his skin swallow back the chakra cloak until its blazing light faded. The agents that had gone to meet him didn't attack. They were waiting for him to make the first move, which gave him just enough time to cobble together a plan.

He sent out a simple bunshin as his messenger, making the action so slow and obvious it couldn't be perceived as a threat. The copy strode towards them and then turned his back to display the Uchiha emblem sewn onto his jacket.

"If you're in ANBU, you must be smart people," the other Naruto called to the scouts. "You know what this fan on the back of my shirt means, don't you? It means I'm an Uchiha. And more than that, it means my mom is the head of the clan, and the Candidate Hokage is my big brother. 'Why should I care?' you ask?

"Know about a guy by the name of Uchiha Madara? Yeah? One of the most powerful shinobi in the history of… of everything ever? They were the ones that killed him. To protect _me. _See where I'm going with this? I'm staying with Gaara until this test is over, which means you're all going to leave. Right now_. _If you try to off me along with him, my mom is going to find out. And when she does, you'll only _wish_ she'd killed you. Oh–and you'd probably start a war with Konoha to boot."

The ANBU with the white hood considered his words. "Boy… you are a fool. We will kill him once he's crushed you. It makes no difference to us." He took a step back, and the air rippled as he disappeared. One by one, his subordinates followed, collecting their dead and wounded as they did.

Naruto dismissed the bunshin and took another step toward Gaara, forcing away the desire to summon the fox's chakra back. He knew exactly what he had to do, and this was not to be a battle that could be won by teeth and claws.

It wasn't as if he'd never done this before–the stakes had just never been as high. The narrow space between the foundations of the Uchiha mansion was a favorite place for the half-feral neighborhood cats to whelp their kittens. Extracting the mewling beasts without having one try to take out your eye was a challenge–they had no reason to trust humans. His mother was far better at it, but he knew the generalities. Speak softly, no eye contact, no sudden movements, and patience, patience, patience. Maybe it worked on tanuki, too.

Gaara hadn't made to attack him yet. His back was bent by pain and fatigue–now that he was closer, he could see the deformation of his face wasn't entirely the demon's sand. His other, human eye was puffed shut, and there were half-healed burns flecked across his cheek and temple as if he'd been caught in a spray of acid. The sand was flitting about between the raindrops, read to strike at its master's command.

"Easy, _easy_," Naruto said softly, taking a few more steps closer. "If I wanted you dead I wouldn't have stuck my nose into this fight in the first place. As long as we're together, they can't touch you. Pull it all back, okay? I'm trying to help you."

"_Go away_!" Gaara snarled, ignoring the request to swipe at him with a talon of sand. "I'll kill them myself. I did before and I will again, and when I see my father again I'll–"

"I understand how angry you must be at him, but there's gotta be another way. There's _got _to be."

"You do _not_ understand," Gaara insisted. "How could you? We two are nothing alike. You were given everything I can never have!"

Naruto gasped as the wet sand in which he'd planted his feet tightened around his ankles and then pulled him down until he was buried to mid-calf in sandstone. Robbed of his equilibrium, he fell backward, and the sand rose to meet him, swallowing his hands as well. He was dragged forward until they were eye to eye.

He could feel his own demon writhing in alarm, trying to restore the claws that could sink into the sandstone and break its shackles. He forced it down, and said instead, as calmly as he could, "Of course you can. There's at least one person in your village who can look past the demon to the _you_. I know it."

Gaara began to laugh, a sound so soft and bitter Naruto could hear the tears beneath. "You think I didn't try? When I was little?" he asked. "I played their games. I did as I was told. My uncle betrayed me anyway! He would have killed me, but Mother protected me. She's the only one who's ever protected me!"

Naruto gasped in pain as the sand tightened, poised to break all the bones in his hands and feet. The Kyūbi used that lurch of fear to push some of its chakra through the barrier of his will, and he felt his nails extend to bite into the stone.

"Maybe I should take you away from the people that love you so, so much?" Gaara asked. "Should I squash you like the bug you are? Your teacher isn't here to protect you and Mother wants you dead. Until ANBU found me, I was going to stop her if we met in this test. Now, I do not think I will. You stole what she would have taken to quench her thirst, so instead she will take _you_." He stopped, waiting for Naruto to say something. "Well? Aren't you going to beg for mercy, insect?"

"No," Naruto said softly. "If you want to kill me, fine. But I want you to know something first–you're right. I don't understand. I can't even imagine how hard it must have been for you. But I didn't decide to come here to rub your face in my good luck. I came because I wanted to share it. If my family and my friends could look past the monster I'm keeping inside me, maybe they could do the same for you."

"Liar! No one would ever–"

"Gaara, think. Please! What other reason could I have for risking my own neck to help you? I don't think I'm better than you. I'm not different. I'm not special. I was just lucky enough to make friends with a boy named Uchiha Sasuke on my very first day of school. There are good people in this world. There are people brave enough to look past _what _you are to _who_ you are. I hold my demon back for them. They're what've made the fight worth it, for my whole life.

"If you kill me here, I'll never be able to introduce you to them, will I?"

Gaara squeezed his good eye shut and set his teeth. Naruto said nothing more, letting him concentrate on the struggle he knew only too well. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief when a clump of sodden sand slipped down Gaara's face to interrupt the steady drumming of the rain. The bindings hold Naruto dissolved. As he looked on, the drops continued chipping away at the demon's flesh until it was only sand once more. Gaara fell to his knees, panting, once his limbs were again his own. The danger gone, Naruto could feel the frantic demon trapped within him quiet and go still.

"And Itachi-sensei thought you were too far gone to do it. Huh. Shows what _he_ knows," Naruto said to himself. "He's my big brother and I love him, but man is he ever a downer sometimes. How bad are you hurt?"

Gaara hauled his shoulders up, looking very small and pale and bedraggled. "I don't know," he said in a cracked whisper. "I don't like this… this _pain_ thing. It's horrible. When will it go away?"

"Um, well? If you're like me it'll heal so fast you'll barely notice it by tomorrow," Naruto explained. "You mean you've never hurt yourself before? Not even stubbed your toe or gotten a paper cut or _anything_?"

He shook his head. "Mother always protected me–even if I tried to hurt myself. One of the Kiri ninja cut me when I was fighting her–but her daggers were so sharp I could hardly feel it. Then I couldn't feel the rest of my arm, either. Before that…" His fingers strayed to the scar carved into his brow, and he looked away.

"Bad memories, huh? It's okay. You don't have to explain," Naruto said gently. "Let's just get you patched up so we can get going." Given his extremely limited medical knowledge, the simplest treatment was probably the best. The rain no longer had the force of falling pebbles; in the west he could see stars. "Lift your face up," he said to Gaara. "Let the rain wash the rest of the sand and poison out."

Gaara did as he'd been instructed, leaning back against one of the large stones and raising his face to the sky. The ferocious rain subsided into a gentle mist.

"That feel any better?" Naruto asked after a minute or two.

"Mm," Gaara answered.

Naruto fished around in the waterproof package of medical supplies for some gauze and a pot of salve, then sat down opposite Gaara. "The Uchiha have gotten pretty good at taking care of burns. I go through a ton of this stuff. Bet it'd help." His tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth, he began to blot the water from the patches of raw skin and then ever-so-delicately dabbed on a generous smear of the minty salve. "Gaara, please don't take this the wrong way, but… I don't think that voice in your head has been telling you the truth about itself. The Kyūbi in mine's a big fat liar and sneaky as _anything, _so–woah! No stabbing!" he yelped, falling backward into the mud to avoid a whip of sand that darted out to lash at his face.

"Mother protects me!" Gaara snarled. "Never say that again!"

Naruto picked himself up from the mud, blowing out a loud breath. "You didn't let me finish. I know your mother protects you. I'd never tell you otherwise. What I was trying to say is that maybe the sand and the voice aren't one and the same. That voice is telling you to do horrible things, things someone who cares about you would never, _ever_ ask you to do. But I know that that love is still there, even if you can't hear her say it." He brought his hand to his belly, around where the origin of the spiral curled around his navel. "I know my birth mother is protecting me and always will. My seal is based on hers, and on the fuinjutsu from Uzushiogakure, her homeland.

"Even though she isn't here anymore, the love she had for me still is, because _I'm _still here and I want to grow up to be a shinobi she would have been proud to call her son." He smiled again at Gaara. "Don't you?"

With his face slackened in deep thought, Gaara eventually nodded yes.

"Thought so," Naruto said. "Come on. We'll cross together."


	14. Chapter 14

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 14 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The northeast trail wasn't quite so narrow, and Sasuke and Sakura had made it to the plateau before the deluge. Sasuke took the lead, refusing to answer any of Sakura's attempts at conversation with more than a grunt. They pressed forward until the downpour finally abated in the early hours of the morning. Sakura's budding skills as a sensor kept them clear of ambush, and in the thin light of the false dawn they made their way down the cliffs to the plain.<p>

Sasuke was the one that noticed the body. Tangled in the rocks of the riverbed, it was so battered and muddy as to be barely recognizable. Her heart in her throat, Sakura cautiously approached to scrape away the muck concealing the symbol on the headband. Three curving triangles met her fingers–Kusagakure. No one she knew. "Do you think Naruto…" she whispered.

The expression on Sasuke's face as he answered was poisonous. "Oh. So _now_ you care about him?"

"Sasuke!" she said, aghast. "I've already apologized more times than I can count! I made a bad choice, alright? I did something incredibly stupid and thoughtless, I get it. That doesn't mean I've suddenly stopped caring whether or not he's drowned!"

Sasuke gave her a skeptical look.

She ground her teeth in frustration. "You could try accepting a little responsibility for this big steaming mess too, you know."

"I shouldn't have had to," he said.

"You shouldn't?" she asked. "You didn't exactly stop me, did you? Or apologize to Naruto? Or explain what has been _wrong _with you these past few months?" She tightened her fists, her expansive patience with Sasuke finally evaporating in the growing heat of the day. "You know what I hate most about you? Whenever something awful happens, it's never, ever–not even a little bit–going to be Uchiha Sasuke's fault."

"Of course it isn't!" he shot back. "Are you crazy? You _broke_ _Naruto_–and I care about him a hell of a lot more than I care about you."

Her throat spasmed. But there was no way she was crying now. There was no _way_. So she let something else surface instead, that fierce creature that had possessed the power and resilience to cast off the chains of Ino's jutsu. "Is that how it's going to be from now on?" she asked. "Why the hell did you even come with me if that was how you felt?"

"You… would have died otherwise," Sasuke answered, intending for his tone to be flippant but caught off balance by the sudden dangerous shift in Sakura's expression. "I already have the map and cypher memorized, so I–"

"The better I get to know you, the more I realize what… what an _asshole_ you are!" she yelled, fuming. "I can take care of myself now–you didn't see me take down that puppeteer. If I'm holding you back, by all means… leave."

She waited for him to capitulate. Or apologize. Instead he said, "Fine. You get a ten minute head start."

"Then I'll see you in the arena," she said shortly, turned, and did not look back.

-ooo-

Sasuke watched her scuttle her way onto the plain and disappear past a ridge. He'd already mentally decoded the warnings on the map the sharingan had imprinted on his brain, and had no need of the paper Sakura was keeping in her belt pouch. The course closed at noon; he had nearly six hours left to cross the open area. He took another route towards the bunker in the distance that was their finish line, stewing in his own discontent.

His stomach hurt where Naruto had struck him; now that he was alone there was no purpose in pretending breathing wasn't painful. He allowed himself a minute of rest after skipping over a pattern of stones that would've blasted him to pieces had he not known where to place his weight. The pain below his sternum was getting worse, not better, and he was starting to feel sick.

It was hard to tell if the source of the discomfort was from the injury Naruto had done him… or if it was the pain of a smarting conscience. As annoyed as he was with Sakura, he was already regretting chasing her away. Despite her bravado, they both knew she wasn't strong enough to overcome an enemy genin in close quarters. She worked best as part of a team, where she could rely on her comrades to shield her long enough to ensnare their enemy in illusion that forced them to commit a fatal mistake. And she would probably have been able to tell him in an instant if he was bleeding internally, like he feared, and her ever-ready hands would have been able to soothe the pain just as quickly.

There was no point in wishing now; he'd been too proud to ask for her help. He got to his feet and resumed the internal litany intended to convince himself this was, in fact, all her fault, and if anything dire had befallen Naruto while they were separated… that was _especially _all her fault. It wasn't working as well as he would've hoped.

But he wasn't engulfed so thoroughly in the delicate fallacies he was constructing for himself that he couldn't hear was what happening around him. A commotion somewhere to his right caught his attention. He considered pressing on but decided not to. He was hurt, yes, but he was even more in the mood to hurt _someone_, and it would eliminate some of the competition.

Using the cover of the brush, Sasuke crept up to see what all the noise was. It wasn't much of a fight–two against one, and the one was curled up on the ground trying to shield the bloody mess that had been made of his face. Although their backs were to him, he could just barely make out the burgundy hue of the aggressors' hitai-ate. Their victim's was Konoha's royal blue.

The girl that had just kicked him in the side moved backward, offering up a taunt Sasuke couldn't quite make out, and the first of the sunlight glinted off his silver hair. She was twirling a pair of glasses around her fingers, the lenses smashed out. With a tiny gasp of pity, Sasuke realized who it was. The medic-nin the two Iwa ninja were busy pounding into jelly had been on his care team during his stay in the ICU, and the young man had been flawlessly attentive, gentle, and polite. With a surge of guilt he realized he'd been so wrapped up in his conflicting feelings about Itachi he'd never properly thanked him after he was discharged.

This wasn't about misplaced ire anymore. Iwa shinobi were raised to be as obdurate and unforgiving as the barren lands in which they made their homes, and the current peace between the two villages barely succeeded in masking the decades of resentment between them. The girl didn't look old enough to have been more than a baby when the war ended, but she didn't have to remember those grudges if her parents had passed them on to her. Her male companion looked to be well out of his teens and was built like a gorilla. He was probably slow as he was strong, but that wasn't an assumption that always panned out.

If he didn't do something, now, a fellow Konoha shinobi, one of his comrades, was probably going to die. Sasuke selected two senbon from his arsenal and got into position. The man's neck was bare. Sasuke waited for him to present the tiny, vulnerable spot and threw, a handy trick he'd picked up from that poor hyoton user Naruto had killed on their first C-Rank.

The gorilla grunted and dropped. The girl hissed in annoyance and went immediately on the alert. She was maybe two or three years older than he was, with coal-black hair cropped at her chin and an oddly delicate build for an Earth Country girl. Her eyes were the color of raw meat.

After pausing to confirm her companion was stunned and not dead, she straightened and scanned the shadows of the boulder. "You, whoever you are," she called, "have just made one hell of a mistake. The one you should've been watching out for wasn't him. It was _me_!"

She punctuated the last word with a flurry of handsigns and struck the ground with her fist. The boulders at Sasuke's hiding place split apart at the seams, forcing him to break cover to avoid being peppered with shards of rock. He wasn't fast enough to evade them all, even with a sharingan. A large chunk grazed his brow and another struck him in the stomach. They weren't bad hits, but the pain of taking a blow in the same spot as he had last night made him see stars.

He clawed his way back to awareness in time to see her complete another chain of signs; this time she spat the molded chakra out of her mouth as a fine white powder. Although still forced on the defensive, he avoided most of this, too. The pale stuff settled onto the ground like a heavy dusting of sugar. The mud on which it landed began to smoke and then bubble as the chemical reacted with the moisture. The skin of the fingertips on his left hand were smarting where they'd been caught in the cloud, as it too began to react with the sweat seeping from his pores. He rinsed it quickly in a deeper puddle, intensely glad he'd been quick enough to keep from getting a lungful of the stuff.

If the powder reacted with water, a counter to her technique was simple. He dashed off the handsigns to show off his own elemental affinity and sent a wide wave of fire sweeping over the battlefield. It didn't singe her, but most of the shallow puddles boiled away in the heat, leaving behind dry, cracked earth.

Hidden behind the fury of the fire were two handfuls of shuriken, and three of those connected with her bare arms. She shook off the minor injuries with a curse and stayed ankle-deep in the mud, daring Sasuke to come to her. From that, he could infer she had to rely on pre-existing moisture for the technique to be effective; achieving any elemental techniques on the genin level was unusual, let alone powerful ones from two different disciplines.

"Aw, does your tummy hurt? Better get this over with quick so you can go sniveling to mommy," she called nastily. "What are you waiting for? Come over here and get me, little Konoha puppydog."

"How stupid do you think I am?" Sasuke said under his breath. "I'm staying right here."

When the insults failed to move him, she fell back on brute force. More handsigns and the scorched earth beneath his feet began to shiver and crumble. He could see her chakra infuse the ochre soil before it ruptured and turned to a thick dust that was meant to rob him of his solid ground. The acrobatics necessary to keep him one step ahead of her jutsu were executed without his usual finesse. Every movement of his torso contorted the injured tissue that much more.

Whoever this girl was, she was strong. _Incredibly _strong. She was tossing out doton techniques like they were party favors and showing no signs of fatigue.

He stuck the final landing as the last jutsu ground to a stop, his feet spread wide. It had thrown up a massive quantity of dust, dropping visibility to just a few meters. He began to cough before he could stop himself, and his hand went unbidden to the sharp pain in his stomach. Injured and without his teammates' support, he was getting the prickly, panicky feeling he'd bitten off more than he could chew. Since close combat wasn't an option, he would have to rely on his finite stock of poisoned weapons.

A blade in each fist, Sasuke paced carefully to the edge of the dry ground. All he could see was the outline of her body within the cloud of dust. It wasn't enough for his sharingan to do him much good; without being able to discern the subtle twitches of her muscles, he couldn't predict which way she was going to move. He could feel every drop of sweat sliding down his skin. If he hadn't been bleeding internally before, he was sure he was now.

Two minds, one question: who was faster?

Sasuke was about to put his foot down and stopped. The patch of ground was glowing. He squinted and experienced a moment of dizzying double vision. When it did not subside, realized he was looking at the smooth surface of a deep puddle, and reflected back in it was his own sharingan–now graced by _two_ tomoe. Beyond the mirrorlike surface, the pools beyond were shivering with rising heat.

She'd gotten him trapped in a genjutsu and was trying to maneuver him past the safety of the border he'd created on their battlefield. As powerful as her techniques were, she too would be hampered by the diminished visibility caused by the dust. He used a kawarimi to pull himself several meters back while his double took the fateful steps into the pool of solidifying quicklime.

She grinned like a wolf and lunged forward to strike the killing blow. The clone dissipated as soon as she struck it. Cloaked in his own illusion, she didn't see him rise from behind one of the boulders. The top of his sandal impacted her temple. She was thrown backwards by the kick, dazed, and groaned in pain as the heat of the ground Sasuke had scorched with his earlier fireball began to burn her bare skin. Before she could rise, Sasuke threw one of his envenomed needles directly into a vein. Within seconds, she'd stopped moving.

Drained by the encounter, almost staggering, he made his way back to the other Konoha genin. He hadn't taken off while his tormentors had been preoccupied.

"Aren't you… Oh please tell me the other pair is…" he said, fishing around in a pocket and extracted a wide glasses case and a scrap of cloth. Once he'd settled the spares on his nose, he wiped his face and looked up at Sasuke.

"Uchiha Sasuke-kun? I thought you sounded familiar. I'm not going to bolt, if you're wondering." He placed his hand lightly over his left knee and gave Sasuke a disappointed half-smile. "Couldn't if I wanted to. Twisted it worse than I have time left in the test to fix the tendons."

"So you're not going to try to finish, um…"

"Of course, where are my manners? Yakushi Kabuto. Medical Corps. You were unconscious for most of the time I was looking after you. Since I think you just saved my life, I can't really be offended you didn't remember my name. Want me to take a look at you? You don't seem well."

"If… you don't mind," Sasuke said. "Got sucker-punched by one of my teammates last night. The pain's getting worse."

Kabuto gestured he kneel and had him remove his shirt, then shifted his weight, wincing, to begin his examination. "You too, hmm?" he mused, inspecting the bruise. "Well, it wasn't literal in my case, but it still smarts. When they learned we didn't have to move through the course together, my temporary team tossed me the first chance they got. I suppose I should have been pickier, but when you've been through these courses as many times as I have, it's hard to find other genin that will take you on. Not everyone is cut out for command, I suppose."

He concentrated for several moments to fill his left hand with the verdant glow of healing chakra. Sasuke could feel immediately how skilled he was compared to Sakura's immature, if enthusiastic, efforts to patch over his cuts and scrapes.

"You have a demon's own luck running into me," Kabuto commented. "I'll spare you the medical jargon, but suffice to say there's blood pooling in your abdominal cavity that should _not_ be there. You would've been in bad shape an hour or so from now. Who on earth hit you this hard? The blond one?"

Sasuke nodded and did not elaborate as to why.

"Typical," he sniffed. "Funny how quickly the Will of Fire's snuffed out when someone has something to gain. You don't know what I wouldn't give to march up to those idiot 'teammates' of mine and deck them the next time I lay eyes on one. Spent a bit too much time in the research library for that dream to ever come true, though.

"What about you? Your brothers certainly don't seem to be treating you as well as one might hope. Ever wondered what it would be like to get them back?" Behind the lens of his glasses, his gaze was too sharp, glinting like the blade of a knife. "Especially Itachi-san? If someone could give you that kind of power, what price would you be willing to pay?"

"How do you know about…?" Sasuke whispered.

"You weren't exactly trying to keep your voice down, Sasuke-kun. I was in the next room doing a blood draw, if I recall. Believe you me, I know what it's like to live in someone else's shadow. My adoptive father's been head of the Medical Corps for years and so far I just haven't measured up."

Kabuto turned his attention back to his work, letting Sasuke digest his words.

What _would_ he be willing to surrender to surpass Itachi? He was the most powerful shinobi in their village. The only way to remove him from his position as Candidate Hokage would be to kill him, or have him branded a traitor. To do something so terrible to Itachi would mean betraying his team. His family. His clan. It would mean giving up _everything, _even the people he most dearly wanted to prove himself to.

"I…" Sasuke murmured. A lump of guilt stopped his throat.

"Your teammates? Your village?" Kabuto prodded. "How far would you go?"

"No," he said softly, and then repeated it more forcefully. "No. I was sick and in pain when I said what I said, back in the hospital room. I didn't mean it. My brother's looked after me my whole life. He turned on Uchiha Madara for me. All I want is for him to acknowledge that I can stand on my own two feet. I wouldn't ever hurt him. Not like that. And when Naruto hit me back there… I think I might've deserved it."

Kabuto withdrew his hand and slid the frame of his glasses back on to the bridge of his nose. The intensity of his gaze had evaporated, leaving behind the clumsy, bookish medical ninja Sasuke had rescued on the path. "It was only a rhetorical question," he said awkwardly. "I didn't mean anything by it. Seems you're a better man that I, Sasuke-kun. Can I see your wrists?"

Without waiting for permission, he reached out to take Sasuke's left hand, sending an exploratory pulse of healing chakra across the two dots of matching scars.

"What are you doing?" Sasuke asked, pulling his arm away. "That's already healed."

"So I see. Sorry, professional curiosity gets the better of me sometimes," Kabuto answered lightly. "No one ever figured out what bit you, did they?"

"No. Nothing for sure."

Sasuke drew in a deep breath to test the work Kabuto had done on his abdominal muscles. He stood to stretch them further as he replaced his shirt–still sore, but much better, and the queasy feeling had diminished too. "Kabuto-san… you didn't do all this for me out of the goodness of your heart, did you?"

There was a quiver of guilt, which Kabuto didn't try to cover. "Honestly? No. Having a bit of sympathy from the next Hokage's brother might be useful, especially for a no-name, no-talent nobody like me. Not the most sinister motive, I hope?"

"No, I guess not," Sasuke said. "I should get used to this, shouldn't I?"

"You might want to," Kabuto agreed. He gave Sasuke another piercing glance. Despite the open smile beneath it, that look made Sasuke's skin crawl. "Good luck making it to the arena. I really mean it, Sasuke-kun."

-ooo-

Sakura got a third of the way across the field before she found herself with a second shadow. It was moving through the cover offered by a row of spiny bushes, barely disturbing the fat, waxy leaves. Whoever they were, they were gaining on her. She made to reach leisurely for her canteen and grabbed a handful of shuriken instead.

It was Tenten that broke cover, somersaulting to avoid the spinning blades. She raised her hands and held them apart, the universal gesture indicating she had no intention to attack. Sakura didn't let down her guard. They weren't _that_ good of friends yet.

"You don't know how glad I am I found you," the dark-haired girl said. "I've been looking since before sunrise. Sorry I didn't just pop up and say hi, but I wanted to be sure I was tracking the right person. There were a few other genin taking this route, and one of them was wearing red too."

"Tenten-san… what's wrong?"

"It's Neji," she said, her lips pinching. "He's hurt–bad, and we need your help. He made a mistake translating the coded map and tripped one of the traps. It was some kind of chakra-controlled rope-monster-octopus… thing. We managed to sever all the ropes–which all had blades on them, because why wouldn't they–but the first one that shot out sliced up his leg before we could. He can't walk." She looked out to the otherwise deserted plain. "Um… where's Naruto and Sasuke?"

"We… split up," Sakura admitted. She rubbed her cheeks with both hands. "I did something really, _really_ dumb. But making sure Neji's okay is priority. And if this is some kind of trick… remember that horrible genjutsu that makes you think all your internal organs have caught fire? You'll be my first subject."

Tenten nodded. "No tricks, I swear. Neji needs a healer–it's the real deal." Her cheerful expression faltered for a moment. "He can be a real bastard sometimes, but Team Gai wouldn't be the same without him."

The older girl led Sakura to where her team had sheltered, moving parallel to the finish line. It may have been faster to simply refuse Tenten's request, but her chances of passing the finish line increased by an order of magnitude in the company of a team of taijutsu and weapons specialists. Open ground like this put genjutsu users like herself, who didn't have the strength or skill to go hand-to-hand, at a terrible disadvantage–but it wasn't as if she was going to beg _Sasuke_ to take her back. Not after what he'd said to her.

"You found her!" Lee whispered excitedly, waving from his seat on a slab of stone. "If it were not a betrayal of my feelings for my true love I could kiss you, Tenten." He grinned dazzlingly at Sakura. She could almost hear the 'ping' of the sunlight glinting off of his flawless teeth.

Neji was resting against the stump of a leafless tree and looked significantly worse for wear. His long hair was caked with dry mud, and he had pulled a lock over his scowl and was working through the strands with his fingers, trying to pull the crumbs out. The decorative bandages he customarily wore around his right leg were lying in a bloodstained pile near his feet. A much more practical one had been taped to his ankle. That was stiff with blood as well.

He didn't look up to greet her, although his byakugan was pulsing in his temples and he must have seen her coming from dozens of meters away.

"There's one thing I just don't get," she began, as she knelt next to him and began laying out her medical supplies. "Even if you messed up deciphering the instructions, shouldn't you have been able to see–"

"I can't keep my byakugan activated for eighteen hours without a break, alright?" he snapped immediately, finally meeting her eyes. "I had to take one _sometime, _and I have the world's worst luck."

Sakura heaved a long sigh and didn't rise to the argument as she began unwinding the slapdash dressing. One genius prickly from a blow to his pride was already more than she could deal with.

"I do not believe many of the Hyūga can," Lee explained. "It is not as though Tenten and I are angry at you for failing to spot the seal that triggered it. After all, neither of us caught the mistake in translation, and we all saw what you had written out. Next time, perhaps–"

"Don't patronize–" Neji snapped again, although the rest of the sentence was lost under a hiss of pain as Sakura unceremoniously dumped a bottle of antiseptic solution on his ankle. She hadn't felt it necessary to warn him how much the stuff stung first.

"I am not patronizing you," Lee said patiently. "I am simply pointing out that you failed at something. Tenten and I do it often. _Sensei_ does it often. This does not make us ineffective shinobi if we can take steps to train harder or differently to see that it does not happen again. Perhaps your family would be able to assist you in extending the effective time limit of your byakugan?"

Neji's only answer was a bark of bitter laughter.

"I didn't think this was possible, but you are _worse_ than Sasuke," Sakura muttered, filling her hands with healing chakra. The blade that had severed the muscle fibers had been sharp, which meant the cut was deep but the edges clean. Repairing this wouldn't tax her spotty skills too greatly. "How do you two put up with this day in and day out?"

"_Excuse_ me?" Neji said, affronted. "You are not of the great clans. You would never understand the complexities of how we are destined to live."

"Excuse yourself!" Sakura said, letting the shōsen jutsu fade and getting to her feet. "I'm doing you a huge favor here, in case you missed it. A noble clan lineage means squat. The Yondaime wasn't. His parents weren't even from one of the lesser shinobi clans! They practiced the ancient and noble art of _restaurant ownership. _I came here because I like Tenten and she was super worried about you. If you can't bear to have these lowly commoner's hands touching you, I'm checking out."

"Sakura-san, please stay," Lee implored her, rising after her. "I apologize on his behalf and will do my utmost to guide you safely to the finish line in return."

She was silent for a moment, and then sighed, "Apology accepted. Thank you, Lee-san. You're probably one of the last people on Earth who wouldn't ditch me to get ahead."

She dropped down again at Neji's side. He kept his lips clamped shut and turned to study what was left of the marvelous sunrise, while she brought her concentration to bear on the shōsen. "You might be the only member of a noble clan on this team, but if there's a weak link here, it's you," she said quietly, when she was nearly finished.

When his face darkened, she met the glare. "Nuh-uh. Punching out your medic before she's done working on you is a terrible idea, so you're going to let me finish. I've talked to Hinata about what it's like in your clan, so I understand more than you think. She doesn't believe in this 'destiny' you keep going on about, and neither do I. I was pretty sure I was 'destined' to hang on the sidelines and let my teammates do all the work, until I quit at eighteen and started popping out babies. But Naruto wouldn't let me. I can do things I never even knew were possible, because he helped me push past what I thought were my limits.

"Hinata made the decision to try to _change her world_. She's trying to overturn… what… at least two hundred years' worth of clan tradition with no close family to turn to for help? Do you have any idea how hard that's going to be for her? How terrifying? She herself has nothing to gain, and a heck of a lot to lose, and she's trying anyway–all because of how deeply she can feel another person's suffering."

"That is what both Tenten and I have been trying to tell you since we came to Sunagakure," Lee put in. "I do not know her well, but I can see that she is strong. It _is_ a different kind of strength than what you possess, but it is strength nonetheless, and I can respect her determination to right was has been wrong for such a long time."

"Now you, Hyūga Neji, what have you done?" Sakura continued, once Lee had finished. "You've resigned yourself to whining instead of _doing_ something about this awful situation you're in. Because if you try to do something about it, something that's really hard even for you, you might just fail. And if you won't make that effort, you know what that makes you?"

She let her hands drop and the light of her jutsu faded. "A coward," she finished.

His teammates waited for Neji to muster a comeback; they had said as much to him before. Sakura could see one poised on his lips, ready to fall.

"Neji…" Tenten began softly, before he could voice it. She crouched low so their faces where level, loosely gripping her knees. "When she calls you her big brother, she's not mocking you. She's asking you to guide her and protect her like older siblings are supposed to do–like my sisters did for me–and in return she loves about you and the other Branch House Hyūga like I don't think any Heir has before. To make this right, to make right what happened to your dad, she'll need you as much as you'll need her."

The mask of arrogance fractured, and through it could be seen a wound of grief that had been worried at so often it had never been able to heal. Swallowing back his retort, he pushed himself to his feet and took a tentative step on his newly healed leg. "Sun's getting high. We should move out."


	15. Chapter 15

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 15 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Gaara knew the land well and needed no map, and he avoided the traps by simply creating a floating platform of sand that glided noiselessly over the catches and tripwires. The desert remained silent, save the cries of the birds nesting in the rock formations ahead. The two jinchūriki encountered no resistance as they neared their destination. The bunker was half built, half carved from the cliffs themselves, as if it had grown out of the rock like coral. Gaara returned them to earth directly before the flimsy metal fence strung before the entrance. There were eight green flags flying from the chain-link, four on either side of the open door. As soon as they passed, one of the assistant proctors pulled two down and stowed them away. Beyond the fence was a small courtyard stacked with supplies. Retractable wooden ladders granted access to the upper floors, whose walls were embedded with metal spikes to prevent scaling with chakra.<p>

Naruto made a beeline for a patch of shade on the second floor and dropped his pack and gear belt inside. He wadded up his jacket as a rude pillow and laid his head on it with a grateful sigh. "I am going to take a nap," he announced. He cocked his head. Gaara wasn't following his lead. "Come on. That looks like a good spot. You were awake all night too, weren't you?"

"Yes," Gaara said, still not taking Naruto's invitation to sit. "I am always awake. All the time."

"You _never sleep_?" Naruto asked, horrified, peeling himself up from the lumpy makeshift pillow. "_Never_ ever?"

"Never. Bad things would happen. To you."

"I thought that if people went without sleep for long enough they started hearing things and went nuts and…" Naruto hastily cleared his throat and settled himself back on the ground. "Never mind. Can you make sure whoever makes it in next doesn't try stealing my stuff?"

Gaara nodded his agreement to Naruto's request and claimed a patch of the gritty stone floor on which to stand guard. Having not slept for twenty-four hours, Naruto was in no mood to probe deeper into Gaara's newest quirk–there would be time after naps. He curled himself up tighter and was asleep in minutes.

He awoke, much too soon in his opinion, to a clatter at the gate as the chūnin proctor removed two more flags. Although his patch of shade had crept away while he slept, a thick membrane of sandstone had appeared to shield him from sunburn. Gaara was also sheltering in its shade, his gourd at his side and his chin on his knees.

Naruto yawned and scratched some of the sand out of his scalp. "Hey, thanks for the umbrella. Under all that crazy, I _knew_ you were a nice guy. Wanna see who made it in next?"

The sand formation spiraled back into the gourd, and the container levitated itself so Gaara could buckle the straps back around his chest. He reached the window first, and his hands tightened to trembling on the frame. Naruto looked down to see Kankurō swing the heavy puppet from his shoulders and massage the tension from his muscles with one hand. He was covered in mud and the maroon facepaint was smeared across a collection of bruises on his left cheek. Temari's laughter could be heard from the gate, as she and one of the assistant proctors exchanged some good-natured banter.

"Gaara? Woah, hey, you're looking a liiittle bloodthirsty there," Naruto said, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "Want to go see if you can find yourself some breakfast before you see them? Think I smell something cooking up a floor or two."

"I am not hungry," Gaara murmured, his eyes still fixed on his siblings.

Naruto himself wasn't too good at 'subtle', but poor Gaara was even worse. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're hungry. Let me talk to them, explain what's happened. Might be easier to swallow coming from me. Who knows? Maybe they'll change their minds about–"

"They hate me more than anyone," Gaara interrupted. A cruel smirk had begun to spread across his lips. "They fear me."

"Gaara, that's Shukaku talking. Look at me." He gently but firmly turned Gaara away from the courtyard. "I need you to start untangling what's a 'Gaara thought' from a 'crazy murderous demon thought'. Imagine your brain is a big plate of soba noodles, the regular kind and the kind with squid in 'em, so they're black, and before you, um, think your thoughts you need to pull your noodles apart."

Gaara looked at him blankly. "I do not like soba and I will not eat anything I do not like. You are… confusing. Let go of me."

"Can you just go upstairs let me talk to them alone? Please?" Naruto begged. "Forget the noodle thing, I'm terrible at explanations. Just concentrate on ways to do nice things for them, like… things that would make you feel good if someone did them for you. That's usually how you make friends with people. And stop happily threatening to kill them. That's bad."

"If that is what you wanted, you should have said so in the first place," Gaara said. He withdrew into the shadows of the fort, ascending the stairs at the back that led to the upper levels.

Kankurō had gone back on his guard as soon as he'd heard voices from above his head. The hand that had been tangled loosely in the shoulder straps of his puppet's wrapping had tightened around them again. Temari's fan was still closed, but rested so easily in her hand it would take no wasted motion to snap it up to a fighting stance. Naruto waved and leaped over the railing to joint them.

"It was _you_ he was talking to? Again?" Kankurō said, his jaw loose. "How did you get here before me and Temari? We know these cliffs like they were our own backyard. And what the hellis going on between you two?"

Naruto crossed his arms over his chest. "I could ask you the same question," he said to Kankurō. "Some big brother _you_ are."

Five heavy chakra threads unspooled from his left hand and anchored themselves to Naruto's limbs and head. He felt the soles of his feet rise from the floor, as if his body was suddenly weightless, and he was slammed into the far wall. Unlike Shikamaru's shadow binding, the compulsion of the chakra threads was fairly easy to resist, and he began to squirm against them.

"Kankurō," Temari said sharply. "You get stupid when you're angry. Get it under control before you get yourself disqualified for brawling."

He snorted and released Naruto a moment before he could snap the nearly invisible lines himself. "It's real sweet how well your family gets along," he said, flicking away the loose, wavering ends of his chakra threads. He began to advance on Naruto. "I bet you just crapped your pants you were so happy to be put on a genin team with your big brothers. Well guess what–not everyone's got it as easy as you. I don't know how you could've missed this, but _my _baby brother is completely, murderously, bugfuck-ly insane."

"That's not true," Naruto insisted. "Why are you doing this to him? All Gaara wants is–"

"Don't talk like you know the first thing about us, you little punk. When I was nine, he almost killed me with that sand." Kankurō grabbed a handful of his pant leg and pulled it up to display the scar. "Broke four bones in my foot and would've done worse if our father hadn't intervened. And you're trying to make _me_ out as the bad guy here? Seriously? If he didn't routinely threaten to torture me to death, me and Temari both, I'd be delighted to be the sort of brother to him you were lucky enough to have."

"Maybe he didn't when he was little, but has the control to draw the demon back now," Naruto said. "I've seen him do it!"

"You're full of shit."

"We made it here together," Naruto pointed out. "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

That made Kankurō pause, and he looked for a moment unsure. Temari brushed past him to quickly close the distance herself, so she could speak with Naruto with being overheard.

"The Yondaime Kazekage is my father, and I intend to follow him as the Godaime," Temari whispered, looking down her nose at the defiant Naruto. "That means I've spent my whole life watching and listening, teaching myself what it means to lead a hidden village. He trusts me as deeply as trusts his own council, and that means he's shared with me a great deal." She bent lower, her voice barely above the threshold of hearing. "I know what you are, Naruto-kun. What I don't know is what you mean to do with Gaara. If you're trying to turn him against Sunagakure, if this is some Konoha plot to hurt _my_ people…" She straightened and took a step back, and like a whirlwind the fan snapped out, the edge of the heavy paper kissing Naruto's neck. "They'll have to clean you off this wall with a mop and bucket."

"But you just told me not to lose _my_… augh!" Kankurō groaned from behind her.

Naruto didn't flinch from her threat, and raised his chin higher. "You got me all wrong. I'd never been to another village before this week, but once I got here I realized… well, that you're a lot like us. Your houses, your clothes, and your food are all different, but the way you go on being people really isn't." His lips split in a grin. "You want to protect your home just as much as I want to protect mine, and I'm not planning to get in your way.

"All I'm trying to do is help Gaara. Gaara the _person_, not Gaara the weapon–got no plots, no secrets, no nothing. He's lonely. Give him one more chance. Just one?"

Her fan withdrew and she snapped it closed. "We gave him a lot of chances," Temari said. "So did our father. If my bastard brother just 'wants to be loved', he's going to have to prove it."

-ooo-

Temari and Kankurō had disappeared into the cool interior of the fort by the time Gaara returned to the second level with some rounds of flat herbed bread and a bowl of fruits Naruto couldn't identify. As they ate, Naruto related the conversation he'd had with Gaara's older siblings. The redheaded boy continued lifting pinches of bread into his mouth as Naruto spoke, obviously thinking furiously. He said very little in return and eventually Naruto gave up on conversation to stake out a circular window from which to watch the next competitor arrive.

The fifth flag was down within the hour–it was Sasuke. Sakura was not with him. He felt another surge of hurt at seeing Sasuke's face, nicked and burned pink from the sun. Instead of running down to greet him, he leaned out the window.

"Where's Sakura?" Naruto asked, his voice hard.

"We split up," Sasuke admitted.

Naruto felt even more pain swell in his chest. Not only him, but now he'd betrayed Sakura too? "You just left her?" he hollered, slipping his legs over the sill to grasp the balcony rail. "What's wrong with you? You know her taijutsu isn't good enough to make it through on her own!"

"I did _not '_leave her'! It was her idea," Sasuke corrected. A gust of wind puffed into their faces, sending their hair and clothes dancing in the hot breeze. His jaw fell with sudden concern. "What happened to your _shirt_? It looks like you were run through!"

"I'm fine," Naruto said, hastily smoothing down the fabric. "No thanks to you."

"Naruto, please, can I just come up and expla–"

He returned to his perch in the wide window sill, scrunching himself even further down into the round frame. "_No. _Go away. You're a dickbag and I'm not talking to you."

The worry on Sasuke's face melted into contempt. "Hn. Aren't _you_ mature. Fine. I'm going to find some breakfast, since you're obviously in perfect health."

"I hope you choke on it!" Naruto called, determined to get in the last word.

Gaara had been listening to the entire exchange from the shadows of the room, perched on a stack of crates. He broke the long silence that had been lingering since his siblings had arrived. "I do not understand," he said to Naruto. "In the Forest of Death he told me you were his best friend. Just an hour ago you told me threatening to kill your friends was bad." He crossed his arms over his chest, as if proud to have caught Naruto in a blunder. "Why would you then tell him you wish for his breakfast to be the agent of his death?"

Despite his sour mood, he had to smile at the painfully earnest expression on Gaara's face. "This is an advanced lesson in brotherhood. I'm not sure you're ready for it yet."

"Tell me anyway," Gaara ordered. "You are very knowledgeable and I would like you to teach me as much possible before you return to Konoha."

"Okay, okay," Naruto said, capitulating with a tiny laugh. "Being brothers doesn't mean you always get along. Honestly, me and Sasuke fight _all the time_. That's how we met, you know–he punched me in the nose and we've been together ever since. This one's the worst yet, but…" He dropped his chin to his chest, and continued in voice weighed down with sadness. "No matter how much he's hurt me, I would never let my bijū take him away. That's what it means, to be part of a family. You've gotta be able to forgive all the thoughtless, selfish, awful things you're going to end up doing to each other. It's not easy–not even for me–but you gotta do it anyway."

"Why?" Gaara asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Because when you need them… I mean really_, really _need them, they'll be there for you, and that's the most important thing in the world."

"I see," Gaara said. "When I said I have never known pain, that was not precisely true. My body has hardly ever been injured, but…" He brought his hand to the center of his chest, absently rubbing the spot over the leather strap that he used to anchor his sand gourd. "When you stepped in to save me from my father's assassins, that felt… good–in here. It felt like the salve you put on my burns. I want to feel that again."

"You will," Naruto assured him. "But you don't have to wait for another person to come along and give it to you. Helping out somebody else'll do it too."

Gaara settled into silent contemplation again; he was not one to speak just to fill the air for its own sake. Naruto remained by the window, his eyelids drooping. The exhaustion was more than physical. His new friend had made some impressive progress in the last twenty-four hours, but Naruto craved someone more sympathetic to talk to, like his teacher. Itachi always knew how to unknot the snarls life had presented to his younger brothers, nudging them towards the answer that they could then grasp themselves. He'd know what to do about Sasuke. He knew _everything_.

Well, almost everything. He'd pegged Gaara wrong.

The sun crept upward, and then there was movement amidst the rocks–a flash of cherry-blossom pink. Naruto raised his chin from his chest and leaned down to get a better look. It _was_ Sakura, with Gai's team in tow. Lee and Sakura had taken the lead. Tenten was matching her pace to Neji's, and even from this distance he could see the older boy's gait had been unsteadied by injury. Naruto hastily scaled the ladder to the third level to get a better look over the plain, above the level of the rock formations partially concealing his view. Close behind the older genin were three, no, four tiny figures, the last a smear of white scampering along on four padded feet–it could only be Team Eight.

Eight's strength was as a scouting unit; in a straight fight on open ground they stood no chance, even with the Hyūga prodigy wounded. So why was Gai's team running instead of choosing to turn and fight? They would have been able to see the three remaining flags. Alliance was not an option.

As the two teams neared the finish line, they kept glancing nervously behind him, and within seconds Naruto realized why. Their pursuers were almost invisible, blending into the rock and sand like chameleons. Neji faltered on the rutted stone, going down on one knee before Tenten pulled him up again. The rest of his team slowed.

When they had nearly caught up with Eight, the mysterious figures threw off their cover. There were six of them, led by the smallest and slenderest of the group. Naruto squinted against the sun. Their clothing was mostly earth tones–grays, browns, and brick reds, with a long, flaring sleeve on the left and none on the right.

The leader signaled to their allies and two mustered even greater speed, moving to flank Team Eight. A black cloud enveloped Shino as the first of the enemy genin engaged him, and their battle was lost from view. A gray blur that must have been Kiba intercepted the other one as he lunged for Hinata, and two young men and a dog went tumbling into the sand. The uncontrolled charge triggered one of the traps, binding both Kiba and his opponent in a sticky net that materialized in between several of the natural columns. Hinata slowed, torn, digging in her thigh holster for a kunai to free him. Kiba called something to her that Naruto was too distant make out, and then she bowed her head in gratitude. She sheathed the kunai and again picked up the sprint towards the fort.

They were passing the rock formations now. Naruto peeled his eyes from the drama playing out before him and slid down the two ladders to the ground level. The proctors and earlier winners had begun to congregate at the fence, and there was even more movement from above as the medical teams readied to mobilize. Gaara also peeked out from the storage room in which he'd been brooding, and found a place high on the rocks on one side of the entrance.

Sasuke had beaten him there, standing near one of the stone walls with his arms crossed. "That Iwa girl is still…" he whispered to himself.

There wasn't much to reveal it, but only one of the four remaining Iwa genin could possibly be female–the leader. "Is still _what, _Sasuke?" Naruto asked crossly, forgetting his previous vow to ignore his brother. "She's chasing Sakura, that's what she's doing."

"That's Kurotsuchi," one of the Suna chūnin commented. "Tsuchikage's her grandfather. I had five hundred ryō on her making it through that gate. You tangled with her?"

"Yeah," Sasuke said. "I won."

The chūnin gave him a low whistle. "This is her second exam, and she's a beast. Killed five people last time she entered. For your comrades' sake, you should've ended her when you had the chance. Then again," he laughed darkly, "if you had, I would've been out five hundred ryō."

Sasuke drew in an apprehensive breath, and his fingers tightened on his shirt sleeves.

There were still eight genin in the race for the last three flags, three Iwagakure, five Konohagakure. Neji's limp was even more pronounced now, and, reluctant to push on without him, his comrades were losing their lead on their pursuers. Hinata was even closer; Kurotsuchi had nearly caught up with her, and the younger girl had already dodged half a dozen of her shuriken. Thanks to her byakugan, she could watch where she was running and aim her own projectiles at the same time, and Hinata had managed to embed a single kunai in the thigh of one of her pursuers. He lagged behind the others but refused to let the injury stop him.

Naruto's feet had begun to pace towards the gate before he fully realized he was moving.

The head proctor caught him by his wrist before he could slip out of the fence. "No finishers may reenter the field until the second stage of the Exam concludes."

"But Hinata's going to be…" Naruto said desperately.

"No exceptions." He let Naruto go and retook his former vantage position farther down the fence.

What was the worst they could do? Fail him? The rank of chūnin didn't matter one whit if Sakura and Hinata _died_ today. Once the proctor had released him from his attention, Naruto made a second dash for the opening and yelped when his face slammed into an invisible wall that left his nose smarting and his skin buzzing with chakra. A final burst of violet energy skittered across the opening as the barrier went dormant again. Clutching his face, he mumbled an unintelligible curse towards the towering jōnin.

A spark of identical violet fire arced between the fingers of the hand he held at the small of his back. "_No _exceptions_,_" he repeated, without removing his eyes from the field.

They were so close he could clearly hear the voices of his comrades, and there was nothing he could do to help them. Naruto trudged back to his place against the fence and let his forehead drop against the chain-link.

Abruptly, Sakura skidded to a stop. She put her hands together to initiate a genjutsu, then turned to face the Iwa shinobi. Naruto knew the signs for this illusion well, having been its victim dozens of times in the training field. The two Iwa boys nearest her stumbled and fell to their knees, clawing at their eye sockets. As soon as Lee registered she was no longer beside him, he slid to a stop as well and spun around on his toes.

Lee said something he couldn't hear, but Sakura's answer came loud and clear.

"Screw the promotion, they're going to kill her!" she cried.

"Agreed! Just checking!" Lee called back.

Tenten was next to turn, extracting a summoning scroll from her pouch and selecting a handful of kunai to replenish her supply as the arrays flew by. "Sakura's right," she called, returning the roll of paper. "Neji, if you don't turn around _right_ now…"

To Naruto's shock, he did. The expression on his face was as chill as a mountain spring, but he turned.

Kurotsuchi made a grab for Hinata but the smaller girl was too agile, and she twisted herself out of reach with only a hairsbreadth of space to spare. The two gray-clad shinobi Sakura had downed were wrenching their way out of her illusion; it was useful as a temporary distraction, nothing more. Before they could shake it off completely Lee charged the nearest, a young man at least twice his size who clutched a spiked mace in one meaty hand.

There was courageous and then there was straight-up _crazy, _and with that attack Lee had put himself firmly in the latter category. He'd seemed like a nice guy, too. Somebody Naruto would've liked to get to know better… but it was too late now. He flinched away from Lee's impending grisly death, his eyes shut tight.

He peeled them open again when someone from the crowd commented, "Hot _damn_, who's that kid in green?"

Lee's brain was still nestled safely inside his head and not splattered all over the sand as Naruto had expected. He was moving so fast Naruto couldn't tell for sure, but it didn't look like he'd even been _scratched_. Compared to the green blur darting around his guard, the Iwa genin seemed so slow and clumsy it was a like watching an overgrown toddler try to swat a wasp. Naruto snuck a glance sideways. Sasuke was gaping open-mouthed at Lee's taijutsu display, his sharingan drinking in every detail.

Lee landed one final punch and his opponent toppled–minus two teeth he'd had until five minutes ago, mouth streaming blood. He paused to flash Sakura a dazzling smile and a thumbs-up. Neji had taken the other and dispatched him just as quickly, with the understated, devastating grace of Konoha's most feared taijutsu style. The lacquer armor his adversary wore was no protection against strikes of pure chakra.

Tenten had kept her distance, using the cover of the rock formations to pepper Kurotsuchi with throwing weapons and keep her from overwhelming Hinata and slipping past the finish. When she saw her two comrades fall, she redoubled her assault, sloppy and vicious with desperation. Wavering under the pressure of her killing intent, Hinata let her stance contract too far and lost her balance while trying to block a kick aimed for her face. Kurotsuchi took advantage of this small victory to raise her fists to initiate an involved chain of handsigns. When the last of the gestures had been completed, square columns of rock erupted from beneath their feet, swaying and grasping like the tentacles of an anemone.

Lee scooped up Sakura with one perfectly-timed dive and danced across the rippling rock to bring them safely to the finish. "Ladies first," he said, setting her down with a wide grin.

As he passed the threshold and turned back to the battlefield, he saw one of the tentacles catch his female teammate in midair and ram into her unarmored chest, sending her flying far down the cliff and out of sight. "Tenten!" he cried. When he tried to come to her aid, he ran into the same barrier that had barred Naruto's way and was thrown back on the sand.

"Already tried," Naruto said sadly. "They're on their own."

Sakura helped Lee to his feet and found them a place at the increasingly crowded fence, her knuckle between her teeth and her brows furrowed in dread.

"Tenten was the strongest kunoichi of our year," Lee assured her. "We get worse training with Gai-sensei. I am sure she will be… just fine."

Kurotsuchi let out a bark of triumphant laughter as she released the technique. Nearly all the garden of rock crumbled into dust and debris so she could pass unhindered. The flaps of Hinata's open jacket and loose sleeves and were twisted into the remaining columns, trapping her in the tangle. She strained against them, but the fabric was too strong to tear. Even as she was swaying on her feet from exhaustion, Kurotsuchi refused to surrender to weakness.

"The last one's mine! You're all dead!" Kurotsuchi shrieked, drawing a kunai and advancing on the helpless Hinata. She stopped in shock when more rock crumbled and Neji stepped out of the cloud of spreading dust. "How the _hell_ did you break…" she began.

He didn't answer her. He looked first to Hinata, and then to the final flag dancing in the wind. Kurotsuchi took a step back, unwilling to charge him. The last of her comrades was now gasping in the sand after trading blows with Neji for mere seconds. She'd seen him move. She could be arrogant, but was no fool.

Naruto's fingers tightened on the fence. "No…" he mouthed hopelessly. He struck the metal with the flat of his hand, the jangling noise reverberating across the plain. "Neji, you bastard, don't you _dare _leave her to be…" he screamed.

Kurotsuchi and Neji moved at once. He went for his cousin, and Naruto cried out in horror as Neji struck Hinata in the side of the neck, even as she flinched away, her eyes wide with pleading. Kurotsuchi had sideslipped in the opposite direction, tossing the kunai in her hand into an innocuous-looking lump on the side of the last of the natural rock formations. The hidden seal she had struck flashed yellow, and a low grinding began to shudder through the ground beneath their feet. She used the last of her strength to leap up and grasp the knobby rock, screaming, "If I can't take it, neither will you!"

More dust spouted into the air as the rocks holding Hinata captive trembled and began to disintegrate. Incredulous laughter burst from Naruto's lips as he realized the target of Neji's jyūken strike had been not Hinata's jugular vein but the chakra-saturated column of dirt pressed against her back. She extricated herself from the rubble and her ruined jacket, unharmed.

"Run!" Neji ordered, already racing as fast as his injured ankle could bear in the direction Tenten had fallen. "Before it falls! _Run_!"

The seal pulsed again and sent a blast of energy into the fault lines concealed, until now, from the naked eye. With a wave of heat and a deafening crack the trap Kurotsuchi had triggered came alive. Radiating outward from the formation on which she'd found safety, the ground fractured in the sudden, intense heat of the released chakra. Sand began to pour down into cracks.

"Hinata, go! Go, _go_, _GO_!" Naruto called to her.

She sprang forward, nimble as a gazelle, every fiber of her being focused on one thing: speed. The weight of her small body sent the weakened supports below the ground crumbling as soon as her feet impacted the surface. The pit widened, trying to swallow her alive.

She was almost at the finish when her sandals skidded on a thin dusting of sand, in the midst of the final few leaps to solid ground. Triumph turned to terror as she missed the next foothold by a centimeter, sliding off balance and down into the darkness. Naruto sucked in a breath of disbelieving horror as her head dipped forward.

Hinata threw her arms up, grasping futilely for a handhold that did not exist.

They found one anyway. One that, half a second ago, had not been there. More sand spread itself across the lip of the pit to shield her hands from the heat of the broken rock, and a gentle push from below gave her the leverage to scrabble over the edge and stagger past the threshold. Naruto caught her as the rush of adrenaline faded and her legs failed in their duty to hold her upright.

"Second stage is concluded!" the head proctor called in a booming voice. At his signal, a trio of flares shot into the sky, marking the end of the contest. The one-way barrier he had erected over the entrance fizzled out. He cleared his throat pointedly. "Gaara-sama, it's against the spirit of the test to assist another village's–"

Gaara lowered his arm as the sand withdrew into the gourd. "You mention this to my father and I will kill you and everyone you love."

Blanching, the proctor decided not to risk it scolding him further. "Medical teams, let's move out!" he ordered instead.

Naruto pulled Hinata out of the way to let the rush of Suna medic-nin pass. "You hurt?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Mm-mm," she panted. "Just… out of breath. Never… run that fast… in my life."

Naruto hauled her to her feet and gave her an exultant squeeze around the shoulders. "You did great, Hinata–slippery like a little fish. Look what that Iwa girl had to break out to finally grab you."

Her crimson cheeks went even redder, but gradually her frantic gasping slowed. Naruto let her go as Gaara wandered over to the wall. She bowed very low. "T-thank you for helping me. I don't know why you did it, but I owe you my life. Thank you so much."

"You were right," he said to Naruto, resting his palm over his heart. "That _does _almost feel the same. Is… she one of the people you…?"

"Yup," Naruto said. "I'd like to introduce Hyūga Hinata, now that you're not trying to kill her and stuff. I'm pretty sure she's the nicest person in Konoha. She learned about my, uh, 'houseguest', and still stuck by me."

"Oh, I'm sure I'm not the nicest in _all_ Kono–" Hinata began.

"See?" Naruto said, laughing, and then bent over Hinata's shoulder. "He's like me," he whispered very quietly, and then gave her a much abbreviated description of the circumstances that had led them both here.

Hinata's mouth formed a silent 'O' of sympathy as Naruto spoke. "If anyone knows what it's like to be a disappointment to your father, I do, Gaara-san," she murmured.

"Oh. I… see," he said, clearly grasping for the proper response and not finding it anywhere. "I am not very good at talking to people," he said finally.

A few moments of sandals scuffing the dirt, and then Hinata mumbled, "Me either. I suppose we have that in common too."

"Ah, you both just need practice, and soon you'll be babbling so much everyone you meet will want to smack you," Naruto said. "In the meantime, Gaara, you found the kitchen, right? Did they have any cold drinks up there? Why don't you work out your new friendship skills and get us a couple of sodas."

"Yes, that is a good idea," Gaara agreed. "It makes more sense than brain noodles. I will be back."

Hinata giggled behind her hand, after he had left. "Gaara-san is trying very hard at this, isn't he? And he is so very, very different than before. It's… it's just amazing. I–_Neji_!"

She pushed Naruto aside and dashed for the gate. There was now a rough rock bridge spanning the chasm, and one of the Suna chūnin was supporting Neji as he limped off of it. Sakura's careful work had been undone by the ferocity of the chase. The bandage around his ankle was sodden, leaving the trail of footprints behind him spattered with blood.

Neji was set down by the wall, and the assistant proctor ducked out of the exit to rejoin his peers in searching for injured genin. As Hinata neared, she saw his shaking fingers were curled around burns that spread over the entire underside of his hands and forearms. Immediately after him were another two Suna chūnin carrying an unconscious, but still breathing, Tenten on a stretcher.

The one in a medic's cream tunic turned to Neji. "How badly are you–"

"Her first," Neji panted. "She has five broken ribs. Broken collarbone. Collapsed lung on the left side. _Her first._"

The woman nodded in understanding, and set Tenten down to begin her work inside the small field hospital that had been erected in the shady area of the ground level.

Hinata scuffed closer to her cousin, wringing her fingers in the hem of her black undershirt. She swallowed.

And then she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his loose hair. "I won't let what you did go to waste, I swear I won't. Sakura-san, can you please…?"

Neji almost fell over in shock. With his hands in such bad shape didn't have the strength to push her off, and was forced to submit to a hug whether he wanted it or not.

"Yeah, of course," Sakura said, smiling faintly as she made her way over. "But burns are hard to heal. I don't think I can do much but take the edge off the pain."

The other Konoha genin took it as an invitation to approach as well. Lee beamed at Neji as Sakura took one of his injured hands and began numbing the flaring nerves. "I was really looking forward to facing you in the arena–the contest between hard work and natural genius on display for the whole world to see." He grinned again. "But I think I like how it turned out even better. If this means you have decided to help Hinata change the Hyūga, perhaps you have also accepted that _no one_'s destiny is unchanging? Not even a Dead Last?"

"You still can't beat me," Neji said. "And Hinata-sama, you're welcome but _stop crying in my hair_. You're a Hyūga kunoichi, get ahold of yourself."

Blushing, she scooted away.

"We are in the springtime of our youth," Lee said, unfazed. "I have a long time yet in which to keep trying to best you. So? What do you say? Is it possible for the Dead Last to triumph over the Top Rookie?"

"Fine, I suppose it is–ow, Sakura!–possible," Neji conceded, wincing as she not-so accidentally knocked a tender spot. "Not likely, but possible."

-ooo-

Once the injured were located and stabilized, the examinees well enough to walk the distance back to the village proper were directed to collect their things and undertake the short journey at their own pace. The eight winners the head proctor held back for a few moments in the courtyard of the fort.

He presented to them a tray of pebbles, the bottoms worn smooth to lay flat against the surface. Each genin took one of the stones. On the flat, polished side was a dot of paint in red, orange, yellow or green. Naruto had received orange, and, as he looked up, realized Gaara had as well.

The proctor ordered each genin to call out their color and their name, and noted it on his clipboard. "Matchups for the third stage are as follows: Haruno Sakura and Hyūga Hinata, Gaara and Uchiha Naruto, Temari and Uchiha Sasuke, Kankurō and Rock Lee," he told them. "They will take place one month from today in the stadium within Sunagakure. All of you will be excused from missions by your respective kage in order to prepare for your fights. Winning the tournament will not necessarily gain you a promotion; the Wind and Fire Country Daimyos, their advisors, and the Hokage and Kazekage will judge their respective genin on their readiness to advance. Good luck."

With that, the eight genin were released to return to Suna for the comfort of hot food and a bath. The jōnin sensei of the participating teams had passed the time in a squat building near the Kazekage's tower. The group from Konoha had claimed a small room for themselves on the top floor. When Naruto opened the door he found Kakashi, Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai absorbed in some kind of game played with five black dice, and judging from the pile of cash in front of her, Kurenai seemed to be winning.

"This is a game of chance, not skill," Gai complained to Kurenai. "I am beginning to regret accepting your invitation–how could anyone find this pastime enjoyable?"

"Regret it all you like, you're still going to owe her the money," Kakashi commented.

Kurenai laughed as she collected her dice and her winnings and went to greet her team. Naruto's own teacher had been gazing vaguely out one of the small windows, removed from the game. He turned and graced his genin with one of his rare smiles as they filed through the door. "They sent a hawk with the news. Well d–" Itachi started, trailing off at the scowl that appeared on Naruto's face. "What happened?" he sighed.

There was an uncomfortable shifting of feet, ashamed glances that strayed everywhere but their teacher's face, and then Naruto burst out, "Sasuke is a horrible person, a traitor, and a liar, and he abandoned Sakura, and when I meet him in the tournament I'm gonna punch him in the mouth so hard my fist comes out his–"

"This was all her fault! I tried to tell you; why can't you wrap your thick head around that?" Sasuke interrupted.

"All my fault? All _my_ fault?" Sakura shrieked, jumping into the fray. "Naruto's right–you are a traitor!"

As the others looked on in embarrassed discomfort, Itachi shoved his team into the relative privacy of an adjacent room. The conversation continued devolving into a half-unintelligible shouting match as each genin fell over themselves to describe their version of what had transpired on the course.

"Quiet!" Itachi ordered, and the argument iced over in silence. "I now have a very good idea of how you spent the last twenty-four hours, save one question. Naruto: if _he_ abandoned Sakura, dare I ask what _you_ were doing?"

"I… got split up from Ten and ran into Gaara," he admitted.

"And stayed with Gaara, judging by the order in which you finished. You know better than to try a lie of omission on me of all people." He inhaled and exhaled, his eyes shut. "I cannot believe I thought any of you were ready to be squad captains. Your conduct during this stage was _appalling_. If the Hokage himself hadn't requested your appearance in the arena, I would turn around this instant and withdraw all three of you from this competition."

"All three of us?" Sasuke asked. "What did I–"

"A chūnin takes responsibility!" he barked. Sasuke flinched; Itachi never raised his voice. "Someone who never acknowledges their mistakes is doomed to repeat them. If you cannot own up to such an inconsequential blunder as this, what will you do the first time one of your subordinates is crippled or killed under your command? What will you tell your teammates? Their family? 'It wasn't my fault'?

"Sakura… I know full well the depth of your feelings about Sasuke. I accepted you as my student because I believed you could define yourself by your own talents, not by your infatuation for a boy. I saw in you the potential to be, not simply a great kunoichi, but a great _shinobi_. It was to you that I had hoped to pass on most of my genjutsu. You have a great deal of convincing to do to assure me that I was not mistaken."

He turned finally to Naruto, with the sternest expression yet. "You disobeyed a direct order. Sasuke, Sakura, you are both dismissed. I would like to speak with Naruto alone."

Naruto watched them go, leaping to defend himself as soon as the door shut behind them.

"But I was right all along! Gaara just needed somebody to–"

"You are not listening to me," Itachi said, with a sharpness that pierced straight into Naruto's heart. "This was never a question of who was right or wrong about the Suna jinchūriki. If you had _not_ succeeded in turning him, what then? I want you to tell me what would have happened, Naruto."

"I… would have had to fight him, I guess. And maybe kill him. Or he might've killed me. And in a fight like that, the Kyūbi probably would have…" He swallowed. There was no denying it–a battle between two jinchūriki would have been brutal. Gaara had already begun to transform when he'd happened across him on the plain. If the transformation had been completed, Naruto would have to match that power with his own. How much would he have had to ask the Kyūbi for _then_?

"I have known you long enough to be sure that you are _not_ stupid," Itachi said. "But you have no concept of foresight, and if you do not start thinking ahead you will get yourself and your team killed.

"You have had the ability to inspire great things from those around you, ever since you were a little boy. It was our mother's desire to protect you that tipped her loyalties back to the village before the Uchiha Rebellion, and in turn let me find a third path that saved most of our clan. I would never ask you to abandon this part of yourself; this is one of the rarest and most potent qualities a leader can possess.

"However_,_ you cannot rely on your charisma and your luck to see you through every obstacle. If you want to become a squad leader–if you want to become the Rokudaime–you must take every measure to see your team safely to the completion of your missions. This means you need to carefully consider the possible outcomes of every order that you give and every action that you take. To neglect to do this is unforgivably disrespectful of the loyalty you have inspired in those that fight beside you.

"And Naruto… _you are a jinchūriki_. You know your seal falters when you are in the grip of emotions like intense fear or anger. What's more, the strength of the emotion necessary to trigger this transformation seems to be lessening as you grow older. Although I cannot say for sure because I did not see it myself, from what you've told me, I believe you manifested the first of the Kyūbi's tails. We have to consider the possibility that your seal is failing, and also the possibility that it may weaken to the point that you become unable to voluntarily pull the demon back. Danger is an unavoidable part of a shinobi's life, but every time you _choose_ to place yourself in such a situation, you imperil us all."

Naruto sucked in a shaky breath. To _have the seal fail_. It was a fear Naruto been afraid to voice; a future too horrifying to comprehend. The Hokage would face the same choice that had faced Gaara's father, and with a spasm of agonizing understanding he realized why the man he loved like a grandfather would be forced to the same conclusion as the Kazekage. For the good of the village, a jinchūriki that had lost control would have to be put down out of the same mercy given to a rabid dog. No matter how beloved a companion it had been, it had lost itself. A danger like that could not be allowed to threaten the tens of thousands of people that made Konoha home.

There could be no denying it any longer. He could feel the Kyūbi rise closer to the surface with each passing day.

"The sharingan can exert some control over a bijū," Itachi continued, tempering the lecture with a hint of gentleness. "That… was a large part of the reason I was allowed to take you as my student. But I am not even remotely as powerful or experienced as Madara was when he attempted this feat, and I do not know many tails I could successfully force back. And the effort would injure me. Badly."

"If it breaks, the Old Man will have to do to me what the Kazekage's trying to do to Gaara? Or if you're Godaime by then, _you'll _have to…?"

Itachi bowed in his in a reluctant assent. "The decision to kill someone I love is the last choice on earth I would ever want to make. But I have done it before–when the Uchiha turned on each other during the Rebellion–and I can do it again, if the alternative is the death and suffering of many others."

The painful heat of tears was building in his temples. "Nii-chan…" he whispered. "I'm so sorry. Until now I didn't realize…"

"We're doing everything we can to prevent it," Itachi told him, reaching forward to grasp Naruto's shoulders. "The Hokage has sent messengers to look for Jiraiya-sama; although he no longer undertakes officially sanctioned missions, if Konoha is truly in need, he will come back to help. He taught the Yondaime, and was close to your mother as well, and knows more about your seal than anyone alive. He may have a way to 'tighten the lock', as it were. Until we know for sure, you _cannot_ undertake the kind of risk you did with Gaara. For your sake, for mine, and for the village as a whole."

"This is a lot to think about, and I'm not too good at thinking," Naruto said with a weak smile. "But as of right now, I'm gonna start. It's a promise–believe it."


	16. Chapter 16

**Narutarded Newsflash**: Road to Ninja (Naruto Movie #9) opens in Japanese theaters 7/28/2012! Go watch trailer! Kushina and Minato are alive! Excessive attention is paid to Hinata's tits! Characters' personalities completely unrecognizable when compared to canon counterparts! In other words appears to be bad fanfiction animated with a budget of several million dollars!

Likelihood of this being hilarious and sad at the same time: HIGH.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 16 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Sakura had the misfortune of running into Ino on the way to the Sunagakure hospital, almost tripping over her as she was trying to negotiate an impromptu business deal with one of the local flower sellers. She was in an even cattier mood than usual, making snide comments about everything from Sakura's sloppily styled hair to the handful of blooms she'd come to the markets to buy. She didn't have the energy to put up much of a defense, and let Ino toss as many darts as she wanted before paying for her flowers and leaving with a sigh. Ino was the <em>last<em> person she wanted to see right now. Breaking up friendships was something she'd done more often than any truly decent person ought.

She was therefore doubly determined not to make a mess of this one. Sakura shifted the bouquet to her other arm and rapped her knuckles against the door of the hospital room, which was already open a crack. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah, come on," Tenten said, sounding testy, and then added, "Lee, you dope, you didn't have to do that just to see what it feels like to be on this much pain medication!"

Sakura pushed it open. Hinata waved at her from her seat on a stool next to Neji's bed. His hands were heavily bandaged, but, oddly, the ones he usually wore around his forehead to hide the Caged Bird seal were nowhere to be seen. Lee had apparently been busy with the rotating office chair next to the tiny desk, since it was spinning forlornly and he was staggering around the room like a champion drunk. Sakura placed her burden on the bedside table next to Tenten and sat Lee back down before he could break something expensive.

"Why thank you, Sakura-san," Lee said to her. "I was simply trying to be supportive of poor Tenten by subjecting myself to the same–"

"Riiiiiiiiiight," Sakura said under her breath, and that added more loudly. "Um, that was very nice of you, but can you try something else that doesn't involve you falling over?" After Lee reluctantly agreed, she set herself down on a patch of Tenten's bed. "So how're you doing? You really scared me back there–you looked like death when they carried you into the fort."

"_This_ close to going crazy," Tenten said, pinching her fingers together as they lay against the sheets. "They won't let me do anything by myself around here. Can't even get up to pee! Injustice! Shocking injustice!"

"You broke your ribs so badly one of them tore a hole in your lung," Sakura pointed out.

"Psht. Whatever." Tenten squinted at her. "Did you know your face is all… squiggly-like? You should stop that. Can't be good for you."

"Um, Hinata? How much in the way of pain meds are they giving to her?" Sakura asked.

"A _lot_," Neji answered for his cousin, with a long-suffering sigh. "She's been like that since they transferred her here from the ICU this morning."

"And aren't hospital rooms usually separated by gender?" Sakura asked.

"Lee and Gai-sensei were driving the nurses insane, so they put us in the same room to try to contain the 'youth'," Neji explained. "It was a bit awkward to have to–"

"Ah, I don't care," Tenten piped up, turning her head slightly on the mound of pillows. "It's not like we haven't seen each other completely—"

"_Tenten_!" Neji exclaimed.

"_..._naked before," she finished, ignoring his appalled look. "You just walked in on me washing up in that creek–what're you being so modest for? Your kekkei genkai's being able to see through my clothes!"

"I would never use my byakugan for something so crass. Besides, it isn't nearly as tantalizing as certain people seem to believe. I can see through your _skin_, too, and you aren't nearly as attractive on the inside."

"Must be nice to be on a team with such a perfect gentleman," Sakura groused. "I've lost count of the number of times Naruto's tried to look up my skirt."

Tenten settled back against the pillows. "Yeah," she said, smiling vaguely up at the ceiling. "It really is." She blinked once, and, forgetting her injuries, tried to shoot upright before Sakura stopped her. "Wait, Neji, did you just tell me you think I'm pretty?"

"Lunch!" an orderly called from the hallway, sparing Neji from having to clarify. He pushed open the door and dragged in a clattering cart piled with trays.

"Neji-san, will you need a nurse to help you…?" he asked, ready to set down the meals.

"I-I've got it," Hinata offered shyly. "I'm sure they have so much to do, looking after all the injured genin, so please don't trouble them over something like this."

"They'll be happy to hear that, I'll let them know," he answered, sped on his way.

Neji looked at the bowls on the bedside table, and then down at his heavily bandaged hands. "This is so humiliating. I'm Branch House. You waiting on me is just…"

Hinata rose from the stool and pushed down one of the guardrails so she could sit down on the bed with him. He gingerly pushed himself up to a sitting position, trying to keep as much pressure as possible away from the burns on his arms.

"I keep telling you, Neji-niisan… when it's just the two of us, there's no more Main House, no more Branch House–just Hyūga," she said, and pinched a clump of rice out of the bowl and lifted it toward him. "I-I don't mind taking care of you until you're well enough to take care of yourself. They said your hands should heal up soon, but until then... it-it's only fair. You got hurt helping me."

"If you do not want her to do it, I can feed you," Lee offered. "I am happy to assist my teammates with anything they may need to regain their strength."

"_No,_ thank you," Neji said immediately, and gamely parted his lips for Hinata's morsel of rice.

While the cousins were talking, Sakura had been assisting the more severely injured and significantly loopier Tenten into something closer to a sitting position. "Tenten-san, are you going to be able to manage this without poking yourself in the eye with your chopsticks?" she asked skeptically.

"You see who you're talking to here? I never miss!" Tenten insisted. "Bring it on, lunch." She picked up a piece of the hospital mystery meat, opened her mouth, and promptly dropped it down the front of her shirt. "Uh, I'm eating with my hands now 'cause it's what all the _cool_ genin are doing. _Stop looking at me_!"

After they'd finished eating (and Sakura shut the bed curtains to ever-so delicately remove all the bits that had found their way down Tenten's hospital gown), she broke out the second gift she'd brought along: Tenten's pack. She wasn't about to give the poor girl anything sharp yet, but sealed in the mound of scrolls were probably several small personal items she'd be wanting.

"Is there possibly a brush in there, Tenten-san?" Hinata asked, after the supply scrolls had been spread out on the beds (Sakura had meticulously picked out everything that looked like it might contain weapons).

"Yeah, think so," she said. "Why'd you want it? Your hair looks fine. It's still black right now. Except for the parts that aren't. Blue is a funny color. Ha ha… blue."

"It's not for me," she answered, glancing at Neji.

"Oh absolutely not," he said. "Having you feed me like a baby was bad enough."

Sakura fished around in the scroll marked 'toiletries' and unraveled it to place the appropriate receptacle under Tenten's hand. Surprisingly, she mustered up enough lucidity to focus her chakra properly on the second try, and Sakura handed it over.

"I-it's getting really tangled," Hinata said, brandishing the brush. "You'll have to cut it if it gets any worse."

"If you _must_," Neji sighed.

"If you don't mind my asking, Tenten-san… why do you keep your hair so long?" Sakura asked. Uncoiled from the odango buns, Tenten's hair fell in dark waves past her sternum. Gazing at it, Sakura realized she'd never seen it loose before. "It's a lot of work to keep it looking nice in the field, and everything else you do seems so… practical."

"I just like it—I do girly things _sometimes_, you know," she replied, slightly miffed. "But it does this weird swirly-curly thing at the bottom that looks really dumb unless I've got it tied up in buns."

Neji, who could not resist the knee-jerk reaction to prove his superior knowledge in every topic imaginable, looked at her and said, "Don't you know anything? That's what a flat iron is for." Once he realized what he had said, he tacked on an immediate clarification. "Which is not a fact I know from experience."

Tenten swung her head to look at him and furrowed her brows, then broke into raucous laughter. "I can't believe you… hah hah… ow… laughing hurts… still can't stop," Tenten panted in between giggles. "Hey, Hinata… does he have a fuzzy bathrobe? Or sing into his hairbrush? What color are his hair clippies? How long does it take him to do it in the morning?"

Behind him studiously brushing out a lock of his hair, and oblivious to his horrified face, Hinata paused to think for a moment before answering. "Yes, not that I've ever heard, black except for one pink one I think he stole from Hanabi, and thirty minutes, give or take five."

"When we get home, there will be _makeovers_! At your place!" Tenten said excitedly. "Lee, you want in on this?"

"Yosh! Of course I am comfortable enough in my masculinity to join you!"

Tenten drew in a sharp breath. "Neji…"

"What?" He brought his hand to his mouth, self-conscious. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

"No... you _smiled_," she said. "I saw it! You totally did! And it wasn't that creepy smirk you do when you're about to make somebody's liver explode!"

"Hey Lee-san… if you want, you can borrow my makeup bag on the condition I get pictures afterward," Sakura offered.

"Holy crap, he did it again!" Tenten squealed.

-ooo-

The winning genin were understandably anxious about returning to Konoha to begin preparing for their matches, so the decision was made for all four teams to head home together, sharing the burden of carrying the still-recovering Tenten on a stretcher. She had been discharged from the hospital with a prognosis for a full recovery, but was still in too much pain to walk more than a few dozen steps. The return route was shorter and gentler, although they still stayed clear of the larger towns. Team Seven avoided speaking to each other as much as possible. Sakura took her meals with Gai's team, Naruto with Asuma's, and Sasuke by himself, wearing a sour expression that dared everyone to comment on it. No one did.

There had been not a whisper of activity from Akatsuki, and the teams found themselves on the road winding through the mountains to Konoha almost before they realized it. News of their victory had reached the village before the teams themselves had, and there was a small crowd of antsy friends and family milling around the gate.

"Hold up, guys," Tenten said suddenly to her stretcher-bearers (who at the moment were Chōji and Kiba). "I'm not being carried into Konoha–it's embarrassing. Put me down."

The boys exchanged glances, shrugged, and did as she asked.

"Tenten, are you sure this is a good–" Neji started.

"It is a _great_ idea, because Lee will be assisting her in this courageous endeavor," Gai announced. "You may not have won a place in the third stage, but if all of my supremely talented students cannot walk through this gate on their own two feet I will have failed as a jōnin sensei. The only appropriate punishment would be two hundred sit-ups."

Lee levered her up with the arm that wasn't immobilized in a sling and arranged it over his shoulder. "And I will have failed as a teammate. Four hundred sit-ups!"

"And if _I_ fail…" Tenten said, wincing. "I'm going home to lie on the couch for days and watch talk shows 'til my eyes bleed, because I_ hurt all over _and you two are both_ crazy_."

As soon as Tenten had passed the arch, a flock of anxiously chirping female relatives whisked her away to rest, and the other travelers took this as their cue to say their goodbyes and begin dispersing to their respective apartments or clan compounds.

Naruto automatically turned to follow his brothers when he realized Hinata was still shuffling her feet in the open square. Hyūga Hiashi hadn't come to meet her. Mikoto hadn't shown up either, but he vaguely remembered her mentioning a mission around this time that had been scheduled several months in advance. He got the feeling Hinata's father didn't have the same explanation. He dashed off a quick excuse to Itachi and backtracked to where the disappointed girl was standing.

"Not ready to go home yet?" Naruto asked her.

"Not really," Hinata answered. She was bunched up inside of her jacket, trying to draw her head and arms as far inside as she could, as if hoping she might disappear.

"I was thinking of swinging by Ichiraku to let Teuchi and Ayame know I made it through okay," he mentioned casually, omitting that this thought had only occurred to him in the last thirty seconds. "Want to come with me? It's sort of on your way back to the Hyūga compound."

"Um, I..."

"And you can come too," he called to Neji, who had started wandering in the direction of his home but, like Hinata, was taking an awfully long time to do it. "You don't want to go home either, do you?"

Neji turned back to the gate, puzzled. "You don't even like me."

Naruto jogged forward to catch up to Neji, dragging Hinata by the sleeve before she could refuse the invitation. "I like you a lot more than I did last week," he explained. "On a one-through-ten scale, where Sasuke is a negative three because he's a lying bastard, and Chōji is an eight, because he's just really nice and you can talk to him about anything, you're… hmm. Probably a four and a half."

"All right. Why not," Neji said, shrugging.

Naruto led them to the restaurant just as Ayame was lighting the decorative lanterns hung in the front. She shook out the match, tossed it over her shoulder, and dashed over to give him a quick hug. "How'd you do? Where's Sasuke? And Sakura?"

"Placed second out of eight, so I'm advancing to the next round. They're both fine and they made it too, other than that…" He sighed. "Don't ask."

"That bad, eh?" Teuchi said from the open kitchen. "Well, you and Sasuke-kun always seem to work it out one way or another, just give it some time. What can I get you? The usual? And how about for your friends?" He gestured with a ladle for the three of them to sit as Ayame cleared away some bowls and gave the counter a quick wipe-down. Naruto took the stool just left of center, with Hinata on his right and Neji on her other side.

"Yup, the usual," Naruto said, the savory steam rising from the pans lifting his mood already. As much as he loved his adoptive family, there were times he just needed a _break, _and Ichiraku was usually where he came to get it.

"I-I think we need a minute to look at your menu," Hinata said, as she settled into the stool.

Ayame handed her a battered sheet of laminated paper to pore over, and shortly she and Neji had settled on their orders.

Hinata slipped down from her seat to return the menu to Ayame. "Um, excuse me… please…" she said, gesturing with hesitant fingers.

Grasping her intent, Ayame bent lower so Hinata could raise herself on her tiptoes to whisper something in her ear. She glanced at Neji's bandaged hands, making a sympathetic face, and answered quietly, "Ouch! Sure, we can do that, if you think it would be easier for him."

As they waited for their food, Naruto filled up the small space with the story of his triumph in Suna. When the bowls arrived, Naruto took a deep breath of the fragrant steam and dove in. The contents of Neji's appeared cut small enough to fit into a deep soup spoon that was indeed easier for him to perch in his still-healing fingers than a pair of chopsticks.

Neji turned to Hinata. "You doing things like this always used to annoy me to no end. It didn't seem like how a kunoichi ought to act, but it has made the journey back easier, so…" Instead of finishing the sentence, he picked up a spoonful of the broth and brought it to his lips, letting the unspoken 'thank you' hang in the steamy air.

"Being nice and being weak aren't the same thing," Naruto explained through a mouthful of ramen. "I mean… what _is_ nice? Always trying to make life better for the people around you, that's what it is. Sometimes that's easy. Sometimes that's tiny things." He gestured at the roughly chopped noodles swimming in front of Neji. "Other times, it's things so big it'll take your whole lifetime and all the courage you've got in you."

Neji let his spoon slide back into the broth. "Naruto?" he began, with an unusual amount of hesitation seeping into his voice. "I… wanted to apologize, for what I said to you when we first met and on the journey to Sunagakure. It was unfair."

"Friend scale, five and climbing! And damn right it was," Naruto agreed vigorously, leaning over his elbow to peer down the counter at Neji. "You were a total jerk to me for no good reason." He started to laugh as he turned back to his noodles. "I'm actually kind of glad your sensei showed up before I could get into a fight with you. I watched you take down that genin from Iwa. Not saying I'd definitely lose, but… when your hands aren't all broken, you're scary good.

"You could've made the third stage. Easy. You have genius in _buckets_. Funny thing, though… it didn't take a whole lot of genius to run the opposite direction of the finish line. That took something else, and _that_ was when I started to like you. Me, I don't judge people by what they were given. I judge them by what they do with what they got."

Satisfied that all that needed to be said _had_ been said, Naruto returned to slurping up ramen as fast he could swallow it. More customers trickled in as the stars began to peek out from between the roofs and treetops. When all three of them had finished, he dug out his trusty, well-fed frog wallet and slapped a few bills on the counter before either of the Hyūga could pay.

Hinata thanked him profusely, then spun around on the stool and gasped as her toes brushed the dirt. Naruto snapped the catch on the bag closed and looked up to see what had startled her. Hyūga Hiashi was striding towards them, looking intensely displeased, with his youngest daughter Hanabi trailing obediently behind. Naruto's first impulse was to leap up to encourage her, to reassure her, to defend her.

Neji stopped him with a subtle gesture. "If Hinata really means what she said to me, I intend to make her prove it. Stay out of the way."

"But–"

"She does this herself or not at all."

When they were a few paces away, Hanabi shook off the customary Hyūga severity and skipped forward to embrace her elder sister. "We got the letter!" she chirped. "I'm so glad you're okay. Can I help you train for your match? Neji-san, what happened to your hands?"

"The Tsuchikage's granddaughter was competing in the test as well, and she was a very dangerous opponent," Neji said. His eyes flickered to his uncle, his mouth curling slightly in a recalcitrant smile. "I was burned helping Hinata escape from the trap she triggered. They'll heal."

"Hanabi, decorum, please!" her father scolded.

Self-consciously, Hanabi withdrew and took a couple of steps back. Her face smoothed back into a somber mask. "Congratulations on reaching the third stage of the Exams, Onee-san."

"I did not think it would be necessary to come _fetch _you after you returned from Sunagakure," Hiashi said to Hinata, as he reached them. "Yet here I find you wasting your appetite on cheap street food instead of coming directly home to dine with your family." He looked next to Neji, even sourer. "That is the duty of the Branch House, in case you have forgotten," his uncle reminded him coldly. "And _you_ will address all members of the Main House properly at _all_ times."

With a tiny chuckle of understanding, Naruto grasped what Neji was trying to do. A kindness that cost her nothing was one matter, but a million such actions were not what would change her father's mind. Hinata would have to stand up to him to protect the Branch House, and keep hold of her convictions whether there was anyone to cheer her on or not.

With one more longing glance at Naruto and the encouraging expression on his face, Hinata stopped worrying at her sleeves and very deliberately lowered her arms. "Chichi-ue… he didn't do it because it was his duty as a member of the Branch House. He chose to, because it's the right thing to do to help a comrade in need. We're practically brother and sister, after all. We should be looking out for each other."

"You _chose_?" Hiashi murmured.

"Yes, Hyūga-_sama_," he answered, full of defiance. "I chose. Can I assume you won't be helping her prepare for the tournament? If not, I humbly request permission to assist her in trying to win the rank of chūnin… or at least the first match. She'll be facing one of the Candidate Hokage's students. If she wins that fight, that would be a very impressive debut for the Hyūga Heiress, don't you think?"

Hiashi's hands twitched, ready to rise into the sign that would spark against the seal burned into Neji's forehead, catch it alight, and punish him for such bald insolence. His nephew squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself to accept the price for baiting a man who literally held his life in hands.

Hinata interposed herself between them, her arms spread wide. "Chichi-ue, no!"

"What… did you say?" Hiashi asked, drawing back slightly in unconcealed shock.

"I-I said _no._" She raised her chin higher, although it was trembling with fear. "I'm not going to let you hurt him. Did you… did you ever think that Hizashi-ojisan, and Neji, and the other Branch House Hyūga who defied the Main House did it because _we _were in the wrong? I know our kekkei genkai has to be protected, how precious it is, but dividing our clan like this can't be the only way to do it. What if… what if we didn't deny the other Hyūga the chance to see what they could become, if only they had the freedom to do it?"

Her father unlaced his fingers and let them fall slowly back to his sides, too dumbfounded by his daughter's words to speak.

It was Hanabi who broke the silence, gaping at her elder sister as if she were a stranger. "What _happened_ to you in Sunagakure, Onee-san?"

Hinata let the tension flow out of her on the breath she'd been holding. "N-naruto-kun happened, I think."

From his perch at the ramen bar, Naruto grinned and waved at Hiashi. "The Uchiha Clan chucked this chosen-family-line destiny business and we're doing pretty well, all things considered. Just sayin'. Sir."

Hiashi's eyes wandered over Neji for a long time, as if he were looking at someone very different–someone he had not seen for a very long time. "Hinata, go home and wash up, then take your sister out for a walk. I think Neji and I have something to discuss."

Hinata shook her head. "Whatever Neji-niisan needs to hear I think I ought to hear, too. I told you I'm not going to let you hurt him. Not now and not ever again."

"That is not what I…" her father began. "I meant I owe him an apology, Hinata. Nothing more. A very… belated apology."

-ooo-

Kakashi was usually easy to find, at least for the one person that knew him well enough to have cataloged his habits. If he was not on a mission, not at home, and not eating at the mediocre izakaya across the street from his apartment, he would be at Training Ground Three. Itachi had long ago stopped giving him privacy at the Memorial Stone. If left alone, he would stand there murmuring to himself for hours.

He'd been very small when Obito died, although he did have some scattered recollections of his cousin. He had held the esteemed position of Favorite Babysitter in the World for his habit of sneaking in several sticks of dango to be eaten in lieu of dinner whenever he came over. That alone had succeeded in winning him his younger cousin's unswerving loyalty for the rest of his lamentably short life.

Itachi himself had little reason to while away his time in this place; the stone was for Konoha's heroes, and those he had lost would never have their names carved here.

Kakashi was still standing with his hands resolutely in his pockets when Itachi approached. "You have put this off long enough," he said. "I will need your answer. _Today_."

The silver-haired man shook himself out of the daze that always crept in like fog when he was in this place. "You make it sound like I came here only because I'm avoiding you," he said, not turning around. "I'm not. I'm also avoiding Gai, because some fool introduced him to the concept of the swimsuit competition. Oh, and Tenzo. Him I just owe money."

"Will you train with Naruto before the tournament?" Itachi asked, repeating the question Kakashi had deftly batted away the entire journey back to Konoha. "He and Sasuke will be facing each other if they make it through the first round. I owe it to Sasuke to oversee his training myself. As much as I might want to, I cannot take them both."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Kakashi muttered, fishing out a dog-eared book from his pocket as he finally extricated his attention from the memorial. Itachi fell into step with him as they cleared the shrubs and passed the battered posts. "Who'd you get to take Pinky?"

"My mother."

"Good choice. She's tied with Tsunade for being the most terrifying kunoichi I've ever met. Also makes the best onigiri I've ever had. Funny, that."

"You are trying to change the subject," Itachi said.

"Look, it's not that I don't want to help you out, but I'm... not good with kids," Kakashi muttered.

"Didn't you once tell me you'd protect your sensei's son with your life?" Itachi asked.

"Yeah, but in the... more immediate sense. Like take a kunai for him or something," Kakashi said, keeping his eyes resolutely on the same line of the book.

Itachi could not help but notice he was not even turning the pages. "His first opponent is Gaara," he reminded Kakashi. "Within the first twelve hours in training ground Forty-Four he murdered two people... Kusagakure genin. I am not so idealistic as to believe he's become able to fully control Shukaku's bloodlust within a month's time. I fear Naruto is coming out of that fight a winner or dead. You know I cannot trust anyone else in Konoha with this."

"You know what?" Kakashi said. "I think that Ebisu guy would be a wonderful candidate. The Hokage's daughter picked him out to tutor her kid, right? He must be good. Way better at this stuff than me."

Itachi stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought you might say something of the sort. That is why I should point out that you've been staring at _The Reluctant Concubine: Book Two of the Red Camellia Trilogy _for the past two minutes."

Kakashi hesitantly peeled up his hitai-ate, allowed his sharingan to fall on the extraordinarily chiseled abs on the cover, and dropped the book like it was on fire. "When did you... how did you... where did you even _get_ this garbage?"

He picked up the book and dusted off the cover. "My mother loves them," Itachi replied. "I have yet to discern why—they are agonizingly inaccurate. Every woman I know who took such missions was more likely to require the attentions of a mental health professional rather than a wedding planner."

"If that's what I put in my pocket this morning, then the other ones on my bookshelf are…" He groaned and tugged the headband back over his left eye. "You are so good at genjutsu it should be illegal. Please tell me you haven't hurt the poor, defenseless things?"

"They remain, for the moment, undamaged, and will be returned to you in that condition after one month... provided you assist Naruto in training for the tournament."

"You're actually _threatening_ me, aren't you?" Kakashi asked, aghast.

"I would never do such a thing. I am merely threatening several inanimate objects, replacements for which can be gotten for a handful of ryō at any bookseller in Fire Country."

"Two of those were signed copies!" Kakashi protested. His shoulders fell. "Even to your friends, you are one manipulative bastard, you know that?"

"Kakashi, that is simply untrue. I am a manipulative bastard to my enemies. When I do it to my friends, it is commonly referred to as 'leadership ability'." He tucked the novel away in his belt pouch to return to his mother's bookshelf. "And they're not even very good books. I can never get back the hours of my life back you forced me to spend reading them. I have the utmost respect for Jiraiya-sama as a shinobi, but as a writer he's a hack."

"Pfft–liar. You liked _Tales of A Gutsy Ninja _so much you borrowed my only copy and never gave it back. Which, by the way, is out of print and totally impossible to find a replacement for."

"I notice you have _still_ failed to answer my original question," Itachi said, more than a touch annoyed. "The essence of the third stage is in the analysis of one's opponents and the careful formulation of strategies to counter their techniques, areas in which you excel and Naruto needs your help. I am not asking you to babysit a child. I am asking you to give Naruto your guidance, one shinobi to another."

Kakashi said nothing. His well of witticisms and off-color jokes had finally run dry. When the man had still been Itachi's captain in ANBU, before the events of the Uchiha Rebellion had earned him his own team, he'd sometimes wondered how someone who had endured so much loss and pain could remain so carefree.

And that was exactly how Kakashi kept himself sane–remaining free of anyone's care. After the Kyūbi's attack decimated the piecemeal family he'd gathered around himself (to replace the one he'd been born to, which had been torn away only a few years before), he had systematically pushed away almost every bond he had ever been offered–from potential students, mentors, friends, or lovers. The only people to whom he would never hesitate to speak his true feelings resided here, their memories already carved into the monument behind them.

"He reminds you too much of Obito, doesn't he," Itachi said softly, ceasing his tread in the thick grass.

"No, it's not..." Kakashi began, and then stopped. Lying to Itachi was a pointless activity. "Yes," he finally admitted.

"Kakashi, it's been almost fifteen years. Let him go. There are people still in the world of the living that need your help… and perhaps you theirs."

"You think I haven't _tried_?" he said bitterly. "I've gotten plenty of counseling. Didn't do a damn thing. How is a thirteen-year-old kid going to fix what's wrong with my head?"

"I couldn't tell you," Itachi said. "I couldn't tell you exactly what it was that he did for me." He turned his head to watch the whispering leaves sway in a gust of wind, and his gaze went far past them, past the intervening time and to the roaring of the Nakano river, and the terrible choice he'd been forced to make on its banks. "You don't know how ugly it is to discover that you have it in you to murder someone you love. After Shisui died, I thought I'd lost something I would never gain back. How could I say I cared for _anyone_, after what I did to a man was not only my teacher but my dearest friend?

"After Madara gave me his ultimatum, I would have ended the Uchiha, you know. Each and every one of them, save my little brother–even the woman that brought me into this world. It still repulses me to admit what I was prepared to do to Sasuke. The torture I would have inflicted on him, to ensure he would punish me and only me for the unforgivable sin I was to commit. To learn that about myself made me feel nothing less than inhuman."

He released the memories to drift back from where they'd come and turned back to his companion. "Yet somehow... five years later I feel _whole_ again, Kakashi. I do not know how and I do not know why, but I cannot help but think that welcoming Naruto into my family had something to do with it. Look at how quickly Sasuke bounced back from having our father die a traitor. He still has his rough edges, but it could have been unimaginably worse. You more than anyone ought to know how badly that can scar."

"You're talking about this kid like he has some sort of mystical woo-woo powers," Kakashi said sarcastically, gesturing with his fingers for emphasis.

Itachi laughed low in his chest. "You know I don't believe in fate or destiny or prophets or gods. At the same time, I cannot deny that that boy _changes_ people, like no force I've ever seen. Give him a chance. Three weeks. That is all I ask."

"All right," Kakashi said, capitulating with a shake of his head. "Three weeks. I'll do my best to ensure he makes it out of that stadium with a heartbeat."

"Thank you," Itachi said. "If you'll excuse me, I have to head back home. There is a rather large knot in my family I hope I can untangle."

-ooo-

"Sasuke?" Itachi called, rapping his knuckles against the frame of his brother's bedroom door. "May I come in? We have to talk."

"Fine," Sasuke said from within, over a shuffling of papers. "It's not locked."

Itachi pulled it open and found him kneeling on the floor in a tangle of notebooks and scrolls, furiously scribbling down notes from a copy of intelligence reports on Sunagakure. He had inherited a large portion of his mother's obsession with tidiness, and the disorder in his room was unusual for him.

"So who'd you find to fob me off on for the next three weeks? Ka-san? Yūgao-san?" he asked petulantly, not looking up from the book.

Itachi stepped carefully around the curls of paper to stand before his brother. "I am training you myself, Sasuke. Our time is limited and I want you to start as soon as possible."

Sasuke finally put down his pencil.

"Before we do, there is something I think we need to clear up first," Itachi said. He turned back to shut the door and locked it, then brushed aside some of the paper on Sasuke's bed and sat down. "Naruto told me what happened in the gully. He called you a traitor." Bracing his elbows against his thighs, he bent closer to Sasuke. "But I do not think it was him that you ever meant to betray."

"I never _meant _to betray anyone!" he shouted, rising and scattering the notes across the floor. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "He asked me if the thought had ever crossed my mind, to do that to someone on Team Seven. I couldn't swear the answer was no. But I never meant to act on them! I could never do that to y–" Ashamed, Sasuke pressed his lips together before the last the word could fall from them.

"Is that what's been troubling you all this time? Since the mission to the Storm Country border?" Itachi asked. His brother looked away, afraid to voice the answer. "Sasuke, come here. Sit down."

Sasuke shifted more of the papers to the floor and set himself down next to Itachi, crumpling up the bedsheets with his fists.

"Look at me," Itachi said. "I'm not angry with you, at least not over this. Every one of us struggles with the darkness in our souls at one time or another. I know I have. I only wish this had come to light sooner."

"I couldn't tell you," Sasuke whispered. "The things some part of me wanted to see happen to you… they made me feel like the most horrible brother in the world." He groaned through his teeth. "This is all too confusing! People look at me and what they see is _you. _And you _have_ held me back. Again, and again, and again. You can't deny that! I still can't tell if it's because you don't want me getting hurt… or because if this is how you want things to stay–you first, me second… forever. I just… I couldn't _stand_ it anymore, and I…"

"It is true that I have held you back, but not for that reason," Itachi explained. "I have never wanted power and fame for their own sake, and they are not why I agreed to become the next Hokage. If you do become strong enough to match me in the training field, even to surpass me, I would welcome it. It would mean I have a powerful shinobi at my side I could trust utterly, and that is a very precious thing.

"If talent is innate–and I am not entirely sure that it is–you and I may very well have been born equals. But I did not achieve the rank of jōnin at your age purely by my own talent. I was forced to sacrifice so much to reach that height, things I never would have given up had it been my own choice. I was not ready for command at nine years old, my tactical ability and proficiency with the sharingan notwithstanding. You don't know what I would have given to grow up like you did."

Itachi briefly shut his eyes, shaking his head in regret. "We may be only five years apart, but you don't know how old I feel sometimes, Sasuke."

Sasuke felt some of his anger deflating, punctured by a prick of sympathy for his brother. It rarely showed upon his face, but he knew how badly Itachi had been battered by the river of passing time–what he had lost to the fierce current and he would never be able to fish out again.

"I want so much to believe you… but you haven't made it easy," Sasuke said with a touch of heat. "You're a liar. You've always been a liar, and as far as I can tell you're going to keep on being a liar. And you're so good at it I can't pick out what's false from what's true, and that means I can never trust anything you say to me."

Itachi sighed; he was guilty and he knew it. "Would you trust what I've done for you?" he asked instead. "If I didn't love you, would I have turned on Madara for you? Defied the Konoha Council for you?"

"That was a long time ago."

He raised his hand to rest it lightly on Sasuke's opposite shoulder. "Would I have spent every moment I could beside your hospital bed, too sick with worry to sleep until I saw your eyes open?"

Sasuke curled his lip between his teeth, his mind's eye calling back the face that had met him when he'd struggled back into consciousness–the raw joy at seeing him awaken, the hollows of Itachi's eyes bruised by exhaustion. "No," he breathed. "You wouldn't have." He unclenched his fists from the bed and linked his hands around Itachi's chest. His elder brother returned the embrace, briefly and a little too tight with relief to be comfortable. "I'm… I'm sorry I ever doubted you," Sasuke whispered. "I really messed this up. Can you forgive me?"

"Already done," Itachi said. "I know saying those words doesn't come easy to you. If you're ready to accept responsibility for your mistakes–and I am not suggesting _I_ am blameless in this either–I think you may be ready to become a squad leader." He rose from the bed and turned back to Sasuke. "If you feel you are ready, and ask it of me, I will push you to your very limits before these Exams are done."

"All this time, that's all I've wanted," Sasuke told him. "Even if the rest of the world never acknowledges me, as long as I know that _you_ trust me to make my own decisions–even if they're not always the right ones–and just… just _trust_ me. No more lies. No more hiding things from me 'for my own good'. No more treating me like the little kid that I used to be. That's not who I am anymore."

"I can't promise," Itachi said.

Sasuke's face fell. "But you–"

"I'll try my best, but I can't promise," Itachi clarified. "I care about you too much to allow you to make a choice that would irreparably harm you." He smiled faintly, brushed with tenderness. "It is an occupational hazard of being my brother, and I'm afraid once you sign on to that, there's no getting out of it."

A snort of laughter escaped from Sasuke. "Wouldn't if I could."

"If it makes you feel any better, Ka-san still does the same thing to me, and I doubt she'll ever stop. Even after I'm Hokage and old and gray," Itachi added. "Get your gear together and meet me downstairs in five minutes."

Itachi left him to tidy up the mess of strategic research and don his weapons holsters. When Sasuke descended the stairs he found Itachi already wearing his sandals and waiting in the foyer. Sasuke crouched on the step to pick up his shoes, pinched his lips thin, and put them down again.

"Naruto is still home, isn't he?" Sasuke asked. "There's something I'm ready to tell him, too."

Itachi sighed. "Yes, but I doubt he would let you. He is beyond loyal to you and takes his promises _very_ seriously. Even the suspicion that you had thrown that back in his face would have shaken him to his core. I'm not surprised he reacted as badly as he did back in Sunagakure. He will forgive you, though–probably right after he gets to land one good punch in the face, knowing you two."

"Okay," Sasuke said, finally strapping on his sandals and stepping out on the neatly swept path to the gate. "Um, Nii-san…?" he asked hesitantly as they walked. "Do you think you could let me stay at your place until we leave for Suna again? Living in the same house as Naruto when half the time he refuses to talk to me is… awkward as anything."

"Yes, it's all right. You can pack after we finish today. If you do make chūnin next month, I'll be seeing quite a bit less of you. We might as well make the most of it."

-ooo-

Shino had already related to Sasuke everything he could remember of his brief battle with Temari, and Sasuke shared it with Itachi during their briefs rests between exercises. After Gaara, she could easily lay claim to possessing the most devastating, versatile style of ninjutsu of all eight contestants. The key to defeating her would be to either destroy her fan or deplete her chakra and then overwhelm her in close quarters with the aid of his sharingan. He would have to be lightning fast to skim over her wind blades, and that was what Itachi was trying to wring out of him–more speed. They worked in the Uchiha training grounds until it grew dark, Itachi lit the lamps atop the walls, and they kept working until Sasuke was almost, but not quite, too dizzy from chakra exhaustion to walk, running drill after drill after drill.

His brother called a halt to the practice just as Sasuke was sure he was on the verge of blacking out. He let his knees go weak and melted against the scarred stone walls. Itachi fished a package out of his vest pocket, unwrapped the paper, and held it out to Sasuke.

"What're those?" he asked, blinking in the darkness.

"Dried apricots. You'll recover your chakra more quickly with something sweet and easy to digest in your belly."

Sasuke took one and bit into it, and as the sunshine sweetness spread over his tongue he realized he was ravenous. "Is the inside of your refrigerator as pathetic and lonely as it was last time I came over?" he asked, in between cramming the golden nubs into his mouth as fast as he could.

"Oh, probably," Itachi answered lightly. "That, or_ far_ too lively. I honestly cannot remember if I threw out the last pieces of Ka-san's grilled salmon before we left for Sunagakure."

"Blech. As soon as I don't feel like I'm going to pass out if I stand up, I'm making you go grocery shopping," Sasuke announced, and then added, "for things that _don't_ come in plastic packages. Then I'm going to throw it all into that stockpot I know you have never used, and we're going to have a real dinner together. At a table, not your desk. In bowls. With actual vegetables in it and everything."

Although they had almost nothing else in common, both Itachi and Naruto lived under the delusion that a package of instant ramen constituted an acceptable meal. Sasuke found this positively shameful, and as long as he was staying under Itachi's roof was determined to do something about it.

"I can hardly object to that, can I," Itachi said, his mouth quirked in amusement. He extended his hand to haul Sasuke to his feet, since the apricots had all disappeared. "The kitchen is one battleground in which you have been able to soundly trounce me since you were eleven years old."

Sasuke stuffed his hands in his pockets, laughing as they ducked out of the stone fence. His whole body ached dully, weighed down with fatigue, but he couldn't recall the last time his heart had felt so light.

-ooo-

Sakura peeked her head into the open door of the Uchiha mansion. "Uchiha-sama?" she called. "Sensei said you were going to be my trainer until the tournament. Can I come in?"

She'd met the woman a few times, in passing, but never had the occasion to spend any significant time alone with her. Sakura was nervous enough about the final stage of the Exams, and the feeling that she was about to spend the next few weeks trying to impress her possible future mother-in-law had her stomach doing a gold-medal acrobatics routine beneath her ribs.

There was a faint creak of footsteps from above her head, and the sound of a door opening. "Of course, Sakura-san, I'm upstairs," she called finally. "There was a bridge out; took me a bit longer to get back to Konoha than I was expecting. I'm still getting my gear together."

Sakura let herself in and shut the door behind her. As always, the house smelled pleasantly of cedar and lemon cleanser. She wandered into the living room and sank into the couch, picking up a hand-bound book of Mikoto's sketches and paintings to flip through. It wasn't simply a housewife's hobby; genjutsu specialists needed constant practice with their visual recall to create believable illusions, and the sharingan gave her a breathtakingly lifelike sense of gesture and scene. She was so absorbed in the artwork she only realized the person pacing down the hallway was not Mikoto when Naruto's shock of golden hair appeared in the doorway to the living room.

"Hey," Naruto said uncomfortably, pausing for a moment on his way out the door.

"Naruto, wait," Sakura said, rising and returning the book to the coffee table. "I'm so sorry about… well, about everything. We were all tired… and Sasuke'd just said all this stuff I… and I wasn't thinking… and…"

"I'm not angry at you," Naruto said. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the doorframe. "I was avoiding you on the way back to Konoha because being near you… it just hurts. I guess I sort of knew something like this would hit eventually… I just didn't think it was going to be this soon."

Sakura dipped her head. "I don't want it to be that way," she said, her voice crackling in shame. "You're not perfect, but you're the most loyal comrade anyone could ever ask for, and I don't want what happened with Ino to… I'm sure she told you all kinds of horrible things about me, and what happened between us _was_ mostly my fault, but… I want to believe I learned from my mistakes. I don't want to lose a good friend over Sasuke again. Until we figure something else out–I don't know what–we're just teammates. That's it."

"Look, Sakura-chan… I know you're not a prize I can win back from him if I only I try hard enough. You're a person strong enough to make your own choices–that's what I like about you. If you decide you love Sasuke, you love Sasuke. I can't change that.

"I know he wasn't the one that did that kissing. Even if he had been–and he'd told me first–I wouldn't be angry. _Sad_, but not angry. It's because he broke a promise. He couldn't swear he'd never considered betraying one of us. Maybe it wasn't even over you. I have no idea… but he _still couldn't swear_. He doesn't get to say he's sorry until I get to grind his smug face into the dirt, and I can't do that until we see each other in the arena. End of story."

"Saying 'sorry' isn't something Sasuke does very well," Sakura murmured.

"Yeah, I know," Naruto answered. "If he's got the guts to say it after our match, and means it, I'll take it no questions asked. This isn't the first time we've gotten in a fight, and I know it won't be the last. That's just how being brothers _works_."

"Okay," Sakura said, brightening a little. "I just wanted you to know I didn't mean to hurt you, even if I sort of–even if I really–did."

Naruto accepted her apology with a small nod of his head. "Good luck training," he said, shifting his weight free of the doorframe. "My mom is super, super nice; you'll like her."

They both peered down the hall as Mikoto stepped down the stairs with her jingling gear belt slung over her shoulder. Her husband followed more slowly, forced to take greater care on his unsteady legs.

Daishiro paused with his hand on the banister. "Naruto… weren't you supposed to meet Kakashi at Field Twelve half an hour ago?"

"It's _Kakashi_," Naruto asserted. "I've got like another twenty minutes to walk there before he'll even consider showing up."

Naruto's stepfather shook his head and prodded Naruto in the direction of the door with his cane. They collected their sandals and left for their respective appointments, leaving the two women alone in the hall.

Uchiha Mikoto did not cut an at _all_ imposing figure–she wasn't much taller than Sakura herself, and was of a similarly slender build, but as usual Sakura had thought it prudent to do her reading. If this woman had volunteered for a suicide mission to face down Uchiha Madara and came out of the confrontation alive, there was a great deal more to her than met the eye.

"Oh, um, and just 'Sakura' is fine, by the way," she said shyly.

"Understood," Mikoto answered with a gracious smile. "In that case, Mikoto-sensei will do for me. Ready to go?"

"Mm-hm," Sakura murmured. They walked the few steps to the foyer and pulled on their shoes. Sakura knocked her toes against the ground to settle her feet against soles and said, "Thank you, so much, for taking the time to train me. I know how busy you must be."

"Teaching is something I enjoy a great deal. I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't want you as my student," Mikoto assured her. "Itachi had the Hokage rearrange my mission schedule a bit, so believe it or not this is something of a vacation for me."

"He did? Isn't that..."

"I won't tell if you won't," Mikoto said with a grin. She took the lead down the stone path that lead to the street and turned in the direction of her chosen training ground. "Besides, it's fairly acceptable for a parent to take some time off to work with their children before the arena matches. As an illusionist I don't have much to teach my youngest two; neither of them cares for genjutsu as their primary fighting style."

Sakura hastened to answer the unspoken question. "My parents aren't shinobi. But my aunt's been teach me some medical ninjutsu—simple stuff, just closing cuts and setting bones, so I need time to work with her too."

Mikoto nodded. "That will be useful. Genjutsu users usually stay out of the front lines, and by definition their chakra control is good."

Mikoto kept up the small talk for a little while, as they passed the borders of the Uchiha district and entered the wooded areas nearer the walls. Sections had been partitioned off with chainlink fence as designated training areas. As they reached the one Mikoto had reserved, Sakura decided her temporary teacher wasn't, despite the physical resemblance, all that much like her sons. She had obviously been raised in a very traditional family, and had impeccable manners, but they didn't make Sakura feel out of place. The opposite, in fact. She had a way of putting people at ease. She was, as Naruto had promised, just _nice_.

But to a shinobi, anything became a weapon, and Sakura got the feeling she'd hadn't 'niced' her way into the Jōnin Council. She wasn't afraid of Mikoto, exactly, but at the same time she was sure the woman would make a very dangerous enemy. She was like a pit viper that had slithered past the garden walls, inconspicuous and content to leave you alone unless provoked. But _once_ provoked, the strike would be lightning quick... and deadly. Itachi had told her that, although he was undoubtedly the stronger fighter overall, in genjutsu he and his mother were evenly matched. Talent got you far, but experience got you farther, and she had been a jōnin for more than twenty years.

Mikoto unhooked the gate and stepped into the training ground. It was set in deep shade, dominated by tangles of fig trees that provided an interesting scaffolding to spar on, with plenty of places to hide.

"Doesn't it feel a little strange to be working with me, knowing that I'll be fighting one of your sons if I get really, really lucky?" Sakura asked her, pausing at the threshold.

Mikoto shook her head. "Teammates never enter that stadium with the intention of killing each other. All three of you are more likely to win promotions by losing with finesse against strong opponents than winning easily against weak ones, so the more trouble you give them, the better their chances, as counterintuitive as that sounds." She fished into a pocket for an elastic band to tying up her thick black hair and gestured Sakura enter as well. "Before we start, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Um, sure, Sensei."

"Why did you choose to become a shinobi? For the child of civilian parents, it's unusual, and even more unusual for them to be actively pursuing a promotion."

The answer didn't come easily. Or rather, it _did, _but it was too embarrassing to say aloud. She had entered the Academy because Ino was going to, and nothing was better than impressing Ino. After their friendship had splintered, she only graduated because Sasuke was going to, and nothing was better than impressing Sasuke.

Mikoto took careful note of her uncomfortable silence. "You don't have to tell me, if it's_ too_ personal. Sometimes, we make the right choices for the wrong reasons. Perhaps a better question would be: why are you still a shinobi?"

Now, Sakura was on firmer ground. "I'm good at this," she said, her heart filling with pride as the words left her lips. "Better than I ever thought I would be. And my comrades need me."

Mikoto smiled. "An excellent reason. One of the best." She folded her hands behind her back. "Now. I have no doubt that Naruto has told you a great many things about me. I am, after all, his mother. I am also a kunoichi, and one of only nineteen female jōnin out of the hundred and fifty or so on active duty in Konoha. During the course of your instruction, you will learn exactly why that is. Are you ready to begin?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sakura said.

"The first order of business is for me to assess your combat skills. The exercise is quite simple, a variation on the one I've used on most genin I've helped to prepare for the Exams. You will find me in this training field and clasp hands with me. That is all."

She extended her gloved right hand to Sakura. When Sakura moved to take it, her fingers encountered nothing but air, and the black fabric of Mikoto's fatigues exploded into a flock of shrieking crows. Sakura batted them away, disoriented. Her teacher's amusement seemed to be echoing inside the bones of Sakura's skull.

"Of course, you'll have to catch me first," Mikoto laughed.

-ooo-

Sakura fell to her knees, dizzy, singed and exhausted. Her temples were pounding in time to her pulse. She couldn't do it. With a team to help her, maybe she might have managed, but she was years away from cornering Mikoto all by herself. She didn't even have enough chakra to close the wound dyeing the sleeve of her dress an even deeper red.

"We're done; I've seen what I needed to see," Mikoto called, as she materialized crouched in the boughs of one of the fig trees.

"That bad, huh?" Sakura said testily to herself. She was used to sparring with Sasuke and thought she knew how to wriggle around the disadvantages of fighting a sharingan user, but Mikoto was wise to all _her_ tricks and had spent the entire day whipping up her brain like a bowl of meringue. She's always sort of thought the great Uchiha Itachi was more than a little bit of a mama's boy. Now she understood why, and with a mother like this there ought not to have been any shame in the label.

Mikoto dropped to the ground and crossed over to her. "Undo the top of your dress, please. I need to take care of that cut."

Sakura did as she was ordered, unbuttoning the qipao to expose her undershirt and the injury to her shoulder. Mikoto got out a small first aid kit. She blotted the weeping cut clean with some antiseptic-soaked gauze and initiated the shōsen jutsu to bind the torn flesh together.

She worked in silence for a few minutes, and then said, "Well, you aren't going to win the tournament… but I think you knew that already. You were very unlucky in the draw for your first opponent. Every byakugan user has the tools to be a serious threat to people that fight like we do."

She paused from the healing jutsu, and lifted Sakura's hand in her own, watching the lean muscle ripple under her skin. "How's your range of motion? Does that hurt?"

"Not badly," Sakura said.

"Good," she said, began to pack away her medical supplies. "Physically, I was also the weakest member of my genin team, and to be perfectly honest, for an Uchiha my taijutsu was awful. For me to have a hope of fighting a Hyūga on equal terms, I would have to do everything possible to disrupt their globe of vision–overwhelm their sight, cause them pain, disrupt their balance, rob them of their kinesthetic senses. Even then… the only reason I could even have _attempted_ to confront a member of that clan in a confined area was because of my sharingan. You do not have that advantage. In the arena there is nowhere for you to hide, and once she closes with you, it's over.

"The _only_ way you will be able to win this match is if you attack Hinata mercilessly at her weakest point."

"What is it?" Sakura breathed.

Mikoto raised her hand, first two fingers extended, and brought them level with the center of Sakura's breastbone. "Her heart. From what I remember of the girl, she has no confidence in her abilities. She refuses to take up her space. She's considerate of others to a fault. I would hazard the guess she isn't even sure she's fit to be a squad leader. If you apply stress in the correct places, she'd buckle and surrender without you having to land a single blow.

"Frankly I have a hard time believing she managed to pass the second test. She did not have the self-assurance to overcome that kind of trial."

"She did," Sakura said, shrugging her shoulders. It made her wince a little, but the pain wasn't intense. "I've seen her fight. She's a lot better than she thinks." She shifted her legs and dropped her eyes to the grass. "Mikoto-sensei, I… I can't do it," she whispered. "Hinata's my friend. We've fought together more than once. I promised myself I wouldn't intentionally cripple anyone from Konoha if I met them in the arena, and if I did that to her I'm not sure she'd ever recover. Besides her father would…" She bit her lip. If Hinata lost, especially like that, her father would disinherit her. Eventually brand her with her own Caged Bird seal. What Neji had summoned up the courage to sacrifice for her would all have gone to waste.

"I _want_ to be a chūnin. I really do," Sakura declared. "But not for that kind of price. I mean… I don't have to win to be promoted, do I?"

"No. Technically it would be possible," Mikoto said. "But this is your first match as a rookie genin. None of the spectators have seen you in action before. You haven't had the opportunity to show off your skills, and the possibility is very remote."

"So the more they see of me, the better my chances?" Sakura asked.

Mikoto nodded in agreement.

"Mikoto-sensei… I need you to help me last. That's it. Just _last_."

"That, I think we can manage."

The street lamps in the distance buzzed and caught alight. It was late. Sakura tried to get up and suddenly the world went muffled, all her senses wrapped in black velvet. Mikoto swooped in to steady her, supporting her by her uninjured shoulder.

After a second or two her vision cleared again. "Sorry, my head is…" Sakura groaned.

"There's no need to apologize. I worked you extremely hard and your body is just telling you to rest," Mikoto explained. She guided Sakura's arm over her shoulders and put her other hand around her waist. "Maybe I'd better walk you home. And make sure you eat something substantial when you get there. I remember what it was like to be thirteen. Don't even _think_ about dieting before a tournament match."

Despite the fierce ache in her head Sakura had to smile as they walked. Mikoto had pushed her ruthlessly to her limits, but once she had reached them her new teacher was as gentle as could be. She was probably the most dangerous kunoichi currently living in Konoha… but Mikoto was also had the warmth of a loving mother, and the second aspect strengthened rather than weakened the first.

Sakura was too tired for conversation and Mikoto didn't push her for any until they reached the steps of her family's apartment.

As if able to read her mind, Mikoto opened her mouth to speak as Sakura leaned against the railing, fishing for her house keys. "I'm sure this has been a bit awkward for you, given the… situation between Sasuke and Naruto at the moment. And you being caught in the middle of it."

She felt herself blushing in the low light. "You know how I feel about him?"

"People talk to me. A lot of people."

Sakura twirled her keys through her fingers, glad her hair and the night was hiding the pinkness in her cheeks. "Sasuke is gorgeous, and whip-smart, and truly caring when he wants to be, but he has one _serious_ mean streak to him, too. Naruto can annoy the stuffing out of me, but he's the kindest, friendliest person I've ever met and he's so, _so_ loyal. I've heard that's not a quality you find in a lot of men." Sakura let her voice dip even lower. "I care about them both; I don't want to have to pick one and lose the other. I really don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Those are my boys," Mikoto agreed. "You really want my advice?"

Sakura nodded.

"Chose… neither."

"W-what?" Sakura stuttered.

"I'm not telling you this because I don't like you, or because I wouldn't enjoy having you as my daughter-in-law–quite the opposite. To be a jōnin and a mother is difficult but not impossible; if you truly want both a career as a shinobi _and_ a family, remember you have a good fifteen… even twenty years left to do it. I married and had Itachi very young. I'd only just turned nineteen on the day of my wedding.

"Sakura… please, do yourself a favor and take advantage of what I never had. Make the time to meet other people. Learn what you want out of life, out of a partner…" She glanced slyly at Sakura under her lashes and added, "and in bed… before you decide to settle down. Sometimes that bond really can weather decades–I first kissed the man that is now my husband when I was fourteen, and we didn't marry until I was almost thirty-seven.

"But to be bluntly honest… usually it doesn't. It's like any flame: a love that burns that hot doesn't burn long. This isn't any sort of failure on either person's part. It's two people growing and changing, becoming whoever they were meant to be. If you find your first white hair and still love Sasuke, then we'll talk."


	17. Chapter 17

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 17 Oo.<strong>

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><p>On the first day of Naruto's training, Kakashi was late. The second, likewise. Then he was tardy, overdue, delayed, behind time. It hadn't impacted Naruto's preparations by much. Even when he <em>was<em> there, his training methods consisted mostly of spending fifteen minutes demonstrating a new handsign chain and then pulling his hitai-ate over his eyes to nap in the shade. Although Kakashi couldn't actually perform most of the fūton jutsu he was imparting to Naruto, he must have been very close to someone who could, because his knowledge of the rare wind affinity was positively encyclopedic.

Naruto was not a complainer when it came to hard work and hard training. He relished it. Even if his teacher spent most of the time parked under a tree with a beer, he was perfectly happy to practice on his own until the rows of straw dummies scattered throughout the field exploded in new and satisfying ways.

In fact, it was only after Kakashi had decided he'd done enough on his own (or he'd gotten bored and run out of beer, Naruto wasn't sure), that the problems had started. Yesterday, there had a short lecture about overcoming an 'ultimate defense' that trickled in one ear and right out the other, then practical lessons.

It was about ten minutes into the sparring session when Naruto had finally lost it, because there was absolutely no legitimate reason for a grown man to shove his fingers up there. The last person to pull that sort of thing on him had been Inuzuka Kiba… at recess, when they'd been about _nine_. Lauded jōnin or not, Naruto thought this said an awful lot about his temporary teacher's maturity level. The most infuriating thing had been that his 'attack' had totally worked, catching Naruto completely off-guard, which was so mortifying he didn't dare complain to Itachi that his best friend was a lazy, perverted, childish, anti-social nutbar.

Naruto had resorted to counting ants by the time Kakashi finally saw fit to appear this morning. He pushed himself up from the ground and brushed the dirt from his shirt front. "Why do I have to get up at five in the morning if you don't even show up until eight? This training sucks. _You_ suck. All you do is stare off at nothing and yell at me to do whatever I'm doing again, you jerk!"

Kakashi sniffed. "I'm really sorry you feel that way," he said, fingering the strap of the massive, ornate cylindrical case he had slung over his shoulder. "I guess I'll just take this scroll full of kinjutsu I borrowed for you back to the Hokage's personal library and tell him you weren't interested. Later."

"Scroll full of kinjuuuwho_what_?!" he gibbered, leaping to tackle Kakashi, or more accurately the burden slung across his back. "I take it all back! You are an awesome sensei! Please teach me something on here. Anything! I totally forgive you for being a disgusting weirdo!"

"Huh. I could get used to this," Kakashi murmured to himself, turning halfway back. He cleared his throat. "Naruto, you're going to have to let go if you want me to unlock the case."

Naruto reluctantly uncurled his fingers from the scroll. Kakashi knelt and waved his hand over the seal holding the flap closed. He unrolled it very carefully, exposing only the first technique, and laid it across a slab of clean stone. "First one's for you–rest of it's still sealed, so don't bother trying to read ahead," he explained, rising. "It's forbidden to anyone below jōnin rank. Takes so much chakra most genin would stop their own hearts in an instant if they tried it. It took me half an hour to convince the Hokage to let me teach this to you, and almost another _two_ hours working on your mother, which, by the way, was why I was late. Don't feel bad if it takes you a few days to get the hang of this, it is a kinjutsu for you, after all."

Naruto crouch in front of the open scroll, squinting at the faded drawings and characters. Suddenly having a lazy, perverted, childish, anti-social nutbar for a teacher didn't seem so bad.

"Tajū kage bunshin. Have at it," Kakashi said, and yawned. "I'm going to get some coffee. Now remember, don't die."

"No problem! Don't kill myself! Got it!" Naruto assured him.

"Good," Kakashi said, and disappeared in a whirl of smoke.

Naruto tucked his ankles beneath him and plopped his head in his cupped hands. He frowned at the paper; he and the written word had never been on particularly good terms. The scroll was clearly very old and the handwriting not particularly good to begin with, although the illustration of the single seal required to perform the jutsu was clear enough. Naruto made a valiant effort to slog through the warnings written next to the drawing, but was starting to get the impression that whoever wrote the text was the sort of person who flossed religiously after every meal and visited his mother exactly at 4 p.m. every other Tuesday, and stopped somewhere in the last third. If nobody had seen fit to rewrite it to be more legible, it probably couldn't have been that important anyway.

"Here goes," he whispered, standing. He folded his hands together and initiated the jutsu. Two copies of himself appeared in a brief flash of light, then disappeared. He got the same result the second time, and the third time, although, with each successive attempt, they stuck around for a little longer.

Naruto glanced around. Kakashi still wasn't back with his coffee. The scroll had cautioned against more than five attempts in a day, but it wasn't breaking the rules if no one caught you. He tried a sixth time. Then a seventh time. Then an eighth time. In deference to Kakashi's request, after attempt nine, he gave himself a thirty-minute break to eat some potato chips to stave off possible impending death. He didn't feel even a little tired, but he didn't want to disappoint his mother by giving himself a heart attack at the ripe old age of thirteen.

On attempt ten, one of the clones disappeared, but the second didn't. It blinked at him, then stuck out its hand. "I'm your first kage bunshin! Pleased to meet you. Or... wait. I think I am you. Part of you. Maybe. Man, is this confusing..."

The original Naruto got up, moving gingerly towards the clone as if it might bite him. He ignored the proffered hand, electing to poke it in the belly instead. It was substantial, and appropriately squishy.

"What'd you do that for?" the clone asked.

"To see if you're solid enough to punch stuff," he said. "What happens if you throw a shuriken?"

"I dunno. Let me try." It undid the catch on the belt pouch, and tossed a single shuriken at one of the few straw dummies that still had a head. It clipped neatly through what was left of its arm, then impacted the stone a distance behind and disappeared. "Sweet!"

"No kidding. Stand back, I'm gonna make more of you. Me. Whatever," Naruto said. A hundred seemed like a nice, round number. He brought his hands together for the single sign and took a deep breath.

Ninety-nine more Narutos appeared in the clearing, and by mutual agreement they all began slapping hands and whooping encouragement to each other. The hundred and first looked around, half-smiled in satisfaction, and then toppled over. It was sort of the same feeling he'd gotten after four days trying of trying to cliff-walk at the Storm Country border, only worse. Head-spinning, stomach-churning, vision-rapidly-going-black worse.

"_Crap_," a muffled voice said.

There a chorus of disgruntled moaning and the inexplicable sound of balloons popping. Two hands and an indistinct shadow turned Naruto on his back and pried his jaw open to slip a pill inside. He swallowed reflexively, and a few moments later the black creeping into his vision receded. For all that he could see only about a fifth of his face, Kakashi looked incredibly worried.

"Blech, was that a soldier pill?" Naruto groaned, coughing at the astringent taste pummeling the back of his tongue. He tried to rearrange his trembling arms into the right position to push himself up and found they were too weak. Kakashi pushed him firmly back down before he could try again. "Wow. I _really_ don't feel good. Muscles all turned to pudding."

"Your mother was right. You really do have all the common sense of a brain-damaged pigeon," his teacher commented, shaking his head.

"That was mean."

"That was mean and _true_," Kakashi corrected. "If you weren't born an Uzumaki I'm pretty sure you'd have ended up in the hospital with multiple organ failure after this stunt." He sat back on his heels. "What's wrong with you, can't you read? Fifty clones at once? After ten _I _would be unconscious!"

"Sorry, reading's always been hard for me, okay?" he muttered vaguely. "You weren't off getting coffee, were you. You've been watching me this whole time."

"Of course I wasn't off getting coffee," Kakashi said incredulously. "You actually thought I was going to leave you alone to muddle through learning a technique so dangerous it could kill you? Why you'd think I'm doing all this? To _keep you alive, _Naruto."

"I thought you were just in it 'cause Itachi-sensei's holding your porn hostage."

"Well he _is_, but…" Kakashi sighed. "Your mother was… my father was her jōnin sensei, and..." He looked away, uncomfortable. "She got me through a lot of… oh, never mind. The point is that I honestly want to help you not die in Sunagakure. And not die afterward, while we're on the topic. Okay?"

"Okay," Naruto said, feeling a little guilty for accusing Kakashi of that kind of negligence. Now that he thought about it, before he'd moved in with his new family, Kakashi _had_ managed to be around an awful lot whenever he'd really needed help.

Memory after memory of his early childhood began floating to the surface. He had never seen the man's face, but it had been a silver-haired ANBU agent who'd helped get him settled in his tiny new apartment. The same man would carry him home whenever he'd fall asleep in the training grounds for the umpteenth time. And he could remember, only in the briefest flashes of imagery–sensations, really–of the darkness and terror that had marked one of the very few attempts upon his life. The man with silver hair had made that terrible feeling go away.

"Sorry, Kakashi-sensei. You sort of threw me with all the napping and the beer and the not-teaching me things."

Kakashi laughed shortly. "Why should I have bothered hovering over your shoulder while you worked? Once I show you the technique, nothing I do or say is going to help you learn it faster than practicing it yourself. You're your own best teacher."

"I am?" Naruto asked. "When did you figure that out?"

"I suppose I should give credit where credit is due—Itachi did, a while back," Kakashi explained. "Alright, that's enough of this lying around talking about feelings. You feel like you can sit up without flopping over again?"

Naruto tried and discovered he could, although taking a step without falling over remained out of his reach. His head hurt and there was an extremely strange fizzy feeling afflicting his insides, which he chalked up to the pill Kakashi had given him.

"Yeah… you're not walking back," Kakashi said, after pushing him back upright. He picked up the scroll and arranged it over his chest. "Come on, I'll carry you," he said kneeling. Naruto arranged himself around the scroll strap and Kakashi's crooked arms. "Don't tell your mother about this; she'd kill me," he ordered as he stood.

"Promise," Naruto answered sleepily, linking his hands around Kakashi's neck. "Hey, Kakashi-sensei? I'm sorry I said you sucked. Because you don't. You're actually a pretty cool teacher. I mean it this time–believe it."

Kakashi hefted him higher and began walking back to the Uchiha district. "Maybe I shouldn't have let Itachi steal you off my team after all," he mouthed to himself.

"Whoozawhat?" Naruto said, jerking out of the light doze into which he'd fallen.

"I said 'don't you dare drool on my flak jacket'," Kakashi proclaimed loudly. "What'd you think I said?"

-ooo-

After Kakashi had made sure Naruto was coherent enough to shovel some instant ramen in his mouth and stumble into bed (his parents, thankfully, were not at home), he struck off toward the Hokage's tower to discharge his other burden–a scroll of kinjutsu was not something you left lying around just anyplace. Kakashi in general loathed appointments, both the making and the keeping, so he landed on the roof outside the half-circle office intending to duck in the window and return the scroll without one.

He found the shingles to be already occupied, by an orange toad wearing a rope necklace of enormous glass beads. He was lying with his back against the wall, his tongue darting out at random intervals to snap up some large butterflies from the flock fluttering about the tower. Kakashi considered objecting for a moment, since they were very pretty, very innocent butterflies, but then realized he'd probably eaten some equally innocent fish this morning and was really in no position to judge.

"Long time no see, Gama-san," Kakashi said instead. "How are you doing?

"Can't complain," the toad agreed, swallowing.

"So Jiraiya-sama's finally…"

"Yup."

"Think they'd mind if I…"

"Nope."

The day was quite hot and the windows were already open. Kakashi poked his head inside the frame. "Don't mean to interrupt, Hokage-sama, but I just wanted to return–"

"Of course you meant to interrupt!" Jiraiya said merrily, twisting to greet Kakashi. He was straddling a chair that looked slightly too small (given how tall he was, that was most of them) and leaning against a corner of the desk. The papers had been shoved to one side to make room for a tray, a bottle of sake, and two small cups. "You have terrible manners; that's something I always liked about you. I would offer you some of this–which is fantastic, by the way–but I know you won't take it. You probably have tan lines so bizarre you can never take that mask off in public." He drained the up perched in his fingers and added, "Not that either of us would care."

The Hokage, who was also slightly tipsy and in an equally buoyant mood, started to chuckle; the two older men had evidently been catching up for some time. Kakashi had nothing to add but an embarrassed smile that was mostly concealed under his mask–Jiraiya's accusation was, unfortunately, true. He swung himself over the window frame and found a place to stand near the large desk.

"Started the first draft of the next one," Jiraiya continued. "Forgot to get your mailing address last time I was in town. I'll have my publisher send you an advance copy when it's done, if you want."

"If I want… ah-hah… hah. Hee. Do I _ever_," Kakashi said dreamily.

"Kakashi, would you _please_ refrain from giggling like a schoolgirl?" the Hokage asked, slightly piqued. "That is not the sort of image I want Konoha's jōnin to project. You came to see me for a reason, correct?"

"Oh yeah, right. You can have this back," Kakashi said. He swung the scroll off his shoulder and rested it against the desk.

The Hokage sighed. "I suspected it was too advanced for him. I know there is a brilliant mind in there somewhere, but Naruto's commitment to study is and has always been terrible." He turned his head and glanced significantly at Jiraiya, who, while he was one of the most powerful shinobi on the continent, _still_ could not properly recite the quadratic formula.

"Hey now, Sensei, I did pretty well for a Dead Last," Jiraiya huffed, refilling his cup. "I'm powerful, I'm rich, I'm famous, and the ladies… uh… anyway, I'm powerful, I'm rich, and I'm famous!"

"That's not why I'm returning it," Kakashi said. "That kid's a total idiot and a stupefying genius rolled into one hyperactive blond package. He mastered tajū kage bunshin in under two hours. He's at home sleeping off the effort."

Jiraiya managed not to spray sake all over the carpets, but only just. "How many clones can he create?"

"Hits the dirt at around a hundred, give or take a few," Kakashi offered.

"As much as I hate to admit it, my hearing isn't what it used to be. You did just say _one hundred, _correct?" the Hokage asked.

"A hundred, and he's determined to get to two hundred eventually."

Jiraiya put his cup down and started to chuckle, which developed in a loud guffaw. "Why is this coming as a surprise to anyone?" he asked. "Minato could summon Gamabunta with something left over, and Kushina was... Kushina. By the time he's my age, in terms of sheer power he'll probably have shot past the Rikudō Sennin himself."

"Honestly, I'm not sure how much else I can teach him," Kakashi said with a shrug. "I did show him the rasengan, which he declared was–and I quote–'seriously freaking boss', but it took Minato-sensei three years to figure it out. Trying to do it in a week is impossible, especially since he's going to be a little shaky until his chakra reservoir replenishes itself."

"Jiraiya," the Hokage said, folding his hands before him. "I think it is far past time you began taking a more active interest in your godson's development. While you are here, I want to see if he has any affinity with the Toad clan—it is a contract I am loath to see lapse, and they are notoriously picky about the humans they allow to sign it. You have no children—" he gave his student a pointed look and Jiraiya had the decency to flush, "that we know of, and if you do not pass the scroll on soon, Konoha may very well lose it forever."

While Jiraiya supported this idea in _principle_, in practice he had been hoping to get several days of research done on the development of several of Konoha's more buxom kunoichi, and opened his mouth immediately to object.

The Hokage headed it off before any of the complaints could tumble out. "You told me not an hour ago that the danger of having Naruto snatched out from beneath our noses by Akatsuki is extremely low. Whatever they are doing with the jinchūriki, they are not doing it by force. The shinobi they have heading their counterintelligence efforts is fantastically good, and we can't make any moves until we have a better idea of what's going on in Amegakure. Your priorities right now are to examine Naruto's seal for signs of stress and to assist him in training for the tournament, two tasks which go hand in hand."

"I was going to get some research done for my next book done, but, um... I'm not that busy," Jiraiya sighed.

"No. You are not," the Hokage said, his tone making it an order. "Your time is short and all that delightful sake is gone. I suggest you start as soon as possible. If Naruto's chakra is already drained, it would most likely make it easier to see if the seal has… sprung a leak, as it were."

"I'm back on missions, then?" Kakashi asked.

"Yes, yes, Kakashi, you are back on missions and your horrible ordeal as a teacher of our young people is behind you." He rolled his chair over to a stack of papers, picked up a pen with his right hand and shooed the other two away with his left. "Now go on, both of you, out of my office. I am a very busy man."

After Kakashi had started down the hall, Jiraiya turned back to the Hokage's desk, raising an accusatory finger at the old man just before he shut the door behind him. "Don't you get all high and mighty with me, Sarutobi-sensei," he complained. "I know _exactly_ what kind of shenanigans you get up to with that scrying globe after hours."

-ooo-

"Hey, Naruto. How you feeling?" Kakashi called over the sound of the television blasting out the first floor windows of the house. "I brought someone to see you if you're up for it."

After a few seconds the noise cut out and Naruto opened the door. He had discarded his jacket and was licking something pink from the fingers of one hand. "Pretty… okay," he said. "I got sort of dizzy and banged my head on the dresser trying to get up to make myself more food, since when I woke up I was _starving_, but now I'm full of watermelon and I feel loads better."

"That's good to hear," Kakashi said, stepping to the side. "I'd like to introduce–"

"I know you!" Naruto blurted out, laughing in recognition as his eyes fell on the tall, white-haired man standing slightly behind Kakashi. "You're the toad guy! I haven't seen you took me and Sasuke on that, uh, 'field trip' to Toad Central when we were little kids."

"It is Toad _Sage_," he corrected, gesturing with one finger at Naruto's sticky face. "Also acceptable: Jiraiya-sensei, Jiraiya-sama, Beloved Hero of Fire Country's Luscious Womenfolk…"

"I like Toad Guy," Naruto decided.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've ever been called, but…" Jiraiya said, but, sensing this conversation was going somewhere he was _really_ going to regret, added, "I'm going to have to insist on Jiraiya-sensei if you want me to pick up where Kakashi left off."

"That's boring," Naruto said.

"It's Jiraiya-sensei or I'm heading back to the office to tell Sarutobi-sensei you refused the summoning contract."

"SUMMONING CONTRACT?! I have done no such thing Jiraiya-sama-sensei-sir! Eeeheee… I am gonna _kick ass_ next week," he declared, bouncing on his heels in unconcealed glee.

"Looks like my job here is done," Kakashi announced. "Naruto–good luck in the finals. I'll be watching." He waved goodbye and disappeared from the porch with a pop and a tumble of leaves.

"Soooo…" Naruto said, fidgeting against the doorframe. "Now what?"

"If I recall correctly, there's a pond near the Uchiha Clan Head's mansion, isn't there?" Jiraiya asked. "Can you walk that far without keeling over?"

"Probably," Naruto said. "Lemme get my shoes."

-ooo-

Konoha was a paradise in mid-spring, with the rains gentled, the air kissed with warmth, and the cherry trees clouded with the last of the blossoms. It was a season for romance, and when Jiraiya and Naruto arrived at the stone steps leading to the pond, they found the pier already occupied by a young Uchiha and her paramour demonstrating the spirit of the season–with _gusto_.

"Hey… isn't that… and doesn't she have her hand down his… oh man, she _totally_ _does_," Naruto whispered, red-faced and slack-jawed. Unable to tear his eyes away, he began wondering vaguely whether he'd ever have the opportunity to take Sakura down to the water and do that to her tongue. That meandering course of thought turned back to what had transpired in the gully during the Exams, which got less titillating and a lot more depressing. Then it took a sharp right turn back into titillating when _Hinata's_ face suddenly replaced Sakura's, and that warm, tingly feeling in his chest rushed back in. "Woah, brain, what was _that_?" he said to himself, shaking his head to knock the daydreams out.

"You say something?" Jiraiya asked.

"No. Never mind. Anyway, let me handle this. I know that girl. We used to be neighbors," he said. He jogged down a few steps, sucked in a deep breath, and hollered, "GET A ROOM, ANZU!"

The boy she'd been making out with was so startled he lost his balance against the edge of the pier and toppled in with a splash; Anzu swore but deftly kept her balance. She reached down to pull her lover out, who ignored her hand to swim to wade to the shore himself.

"I'm going home to change," he announced sourly, stalking back to dry land and taking off in the opposite direction of the embankment.

"No wait, I–" she began, groaned in annoyance, and spun around to stride down the planks, her furious stare fixed on Naruto.

"I thought you were madly in love with Itachi," Naruto accused, hopping down the last of the stairs.

"Me and most other girls between thirteen and thirty… plus some of the boys," she added as an afterthought. "He turned me down again. I only have three more days of leave and I figured I might as well have some fun with _somebody_. Somebody you just chased away, you _adorable_ little _moppet_ you."

"Oh crap," he squeaked.

Before Naruto dash out of her reach, she had swept his feet out from under him, slammed his face into a smear of duckweed, and pinned both arms at the base of his spine.

"Ahhh! Lemme go! Wrists don't bend that way!" Naruto wailed.

"You piss off a jōnin and you get to deal with the consequences, Clan Head's kid or not," she said. "Apology. Now."

"I'm sorry I ruined your vacation! So incredibly sorry!"

Still on the stairs, Jiraiya's face lit up with jubilation. He cleared the rest of the steps with one bound and landed in front of them as Naruto was peeling himself off the ground. "Ruined your vacation? What an inconsiderate ape," he said, sweeping his long tail of white hair back over his shoulder. "You are one lucky young lady, because my schedule for the next three days is _completely_ clear and I know a charming restaurant that–"

"No it isn't!" Naruto interrupted, scraping pond scum out of his eyebrows. "You're supposed to be training me! And here I thought Kakashi-sensei was an irresponsible bastard!"

"Ignore him," Jiraiya instructed sidling even closer to her. "As I was saying, there's the most charming, most, aha, _intimate_ place down the street from the Police Headquarters, and so I as was thinking you and I…"

"No way," Anzu said, stiffened, spun away, and added, "And keep your hands to yourself, you jackass!"

"My dear, might want to let me introduce myself before saying something so cold. I am the one and only legendary–"

"Jiraiya of the Sannin, which means you're older than my father, god's sake," she interrupted. "Yes, I know who you are and I'm still not sleeping with you." She laced her fingers into the Ram sign and flickered away, leaving Jiraiya to sneeze a very disappointed sneeze in a spreading cloud of smoke.

Naruto cleared his throat. "Alright, you've been officially shot down. Can we get back to my training now? Summoning contract, you dirty old geezer. Cough it up."

Grumbling, he unclipped the scroll from his back and unrolled it across the shoreline with a flourish. "There's usually more formality to this, but the Boss's already met you and decided he liked you."

"I did?" Naruto asked, confused. "When?"

"Do you remember the really big red toad you met when you stayed at Mount Myōboku during the Uchiha Rebellion? Hard to forget. Bigger than a house."

"Oh… yeah," Naruto said. "We played bucking bronco for hours and he threw me in a mud puddle… a lot of times. It smelled gross."

"True, but the fact that you kept trying impressed him, and so early in your shinobi training at that. From what Kakashi's told me, you don't seem to have changed much in that respect."

Naruto dropped to his knees to study the scroll. It was made of something tougher and thicker than regular paper. Most of the names on it were faded and brown with age, although Jiraiya's scrawl remained a brilliant crimson. The cells seemed to shiver, rearranging themselves before his eyes, and an empty one appeared on the lip of the paper. "So I'll be able to summon toads now? I'll be the toad master?"

Jiraiya snorted. "Those are two very different things. You get to call yourself the Toad Master when Gamabunta lets you ride on his head without bucking you off. And when he's drunk or in a really bad mood he'll still do that to _me_. A summoned creature is under obligation to show up–not to do a single damn thing you ask of it." Jiraiya crouched next to him, and flicked his fingers hard against Naruto's head. "You didn't pay a lick of attention in school, did you? What were you? Dead Last?"

Naruto glared at him, massing the sore spot on his temple. "I was fifth!" he said, and then paused, embarrassed. "From last. Me and words didn't get along, okay? They took me to a doctor in the capital that said I had something...something-exia and it wasn't my fault my brain was wired up wrong."

"Huh," Jiraiya grunted. "In my day they just called you stupid."

"I'm _not stupid_!"

"Just sign your name and put your fingerprints in the space below, and I can start training you how to call them," Jiraiya said, gesturing at the scroll.

"I don't have a brush," Naruto complained.

"Sign it in blood."

"Can't I have a—"

"In _blood_."

Naruto put his thumb between his teeth, but went no farther.

"Quit being a baby and sign it," Jiraiya said impatiently.

Naruto let his hand drop to the velvety surface of the paper, his fingers coming to rest on the name directly before his. "Oh, right. Itachi-sensei said you trained the Yondaime. Namikaze Minato."

"Yeah," Jiraiya said. "What about it?"

"No particular reason," he said. "Curious, I guess. The kids at school used to tease me for looking so much like him. Before I got adopted into the Uchiha, I wanted him to be my real dad so much, I…" he chuckled under his breath, with a hint of sadness. "I told everyone he was, at least until my teacher got so fed up with my lying he smacked me. Hah… yeah, right. Our hair's the same color, but so's a lot of other people's, and our faces don't really look much the same. I was kind of a dumb kid." He squeezed his eyes shut and bit down. After pressing the bloodied digit against the paper and scrawling out his signature, he pressed his five fingerprints below and wiped his hand clean on a scrap of bandage. He cocked his head. "Jiraiya-sensei, you okay? You're making kind of a weird face."

"Bug flew in my eye," he explained hastily, batting at something Naruto couldn't see. "Let's… uh… let's get started. The motions are simple enough. Once the contract is signed, offer blood from the same hand that signed it–a drop will do–and gather the amount of chakra corresponding to the size of the summon. The signs are Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, Ram. Go, on, give it a try."

"Can I pick a toad or do I just get whoever's free?" Naruto asked.

"You can request them specifically, although if you don't use enough chakra to transport a bigger one, you'll probably get a little guy instead. Have somebody in mind?"

"Gamabunta. Duh."

"Don't summon him inside Konoha's walls, you moron," Jiraiya said. "He'd flatten half a block. Let's start with somebody a bit smaller. How about–"

"Oh, wait… I know," Naruto interrupted. "I sort of remember an orange tadpole with blue squiggles around his eyes. He was the only one with arms and legs. And he could talk. I think he said he was my age."

"An orange… huh," Jiraiya muttered, thinking. "Kind of a smartass?"

"Think so."

"That was probably Gamakichi. He's one of Gamabunta's children, you know. Being a toad he has a ridiculous amount, but he cares about each and every one of them. Treat him right or you'll never get Gamabunta to listen to you. All you have to do is picture his name clearly in your mind as you release the chakra."

Naruto took a step back and squeezed a little more blood from the cut on his thumb. He went slowly and deliberately through the chain of signs, wound up with a flourish, and slammed his hand in the ground.

A tiny, legless tadpole dropped onto the gravel with a little 'plish'.

"Absolutely pathetic," Jiraiya said. "Tch. We're going to be here for a while, aren't we." He fished a notebook and a pen out of his jacket and sat down in the nearest patch of shade.

Sighing, Naruto started through the motions again, albeit with less verve than the first attempt.

"Idiot! _Now_ what are you doing? Send the first one back," Jiraiya ordered, before Naruto had released the gathered chakra. "It's too young to know how itself."

"_I_ don't know how!" Naruto said, letting his clasped hands fall back to his sides. "Can't I just keep trying until I get one with legs?"

Jiraiya's face darkened and he snapped the notebook closed. "Don't you realize that they'll die if they're exposed to air for too long? You don't send every one back, I'm holding your head in the pond until you stop squirming, just so you can know what it feels like."

"Sorry," he said, subdued.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to the toad!" Jiraiya scolded, gesturing with the pen. "You're scaring it half to death!"

"It can understand..."

"About as much as a human toddler. Now say you're sorry."

"Sorry Tadpole-chan," Naruto muttered.

The flopping thing disappeared with a puff of smoke as Jiraiya clapped his palms together in dismissal. "We're taking a break," he announced, returning to where Naruto was kicking the sand in annoyance.

"But we just started," he complained.

"We're taking one anyway," Jiraiya ordered. "Siddown."

Naruto sullenly folded his legs and dropped down on the shoreline.

"I need you to understand that signing that contract doesn't mean you own them. They aren't your slaves. They aren't even your subordinates, until you prove yourself to them as a good leader. They come in exchange for your chakra. It's an agreement between equals. When the summoner needs a hand, he calls for help, and you can bet your _ass_ that the reverse is true, too. When a rockslide hit Mount Myōboku after a quake four years ago, they yanked me out of the arms of the most beautiful blonde—" Jiraiya abruptly jammed his hands in his pockets, which had begun subconsciously squeezing the empty air. "And I didn't complain. Much. Didn't complain _much._"

"I guess I didn't realize," Naruto murmured. "They're so weird and clammy and warty..."

"And they think _you're_ weird and pink and hairy," Jiraiya countered. "Doesn't mean you can get away with treating them as anything other than people. Some of my best friends and best teachers have been toads."

"Seriously?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Naruto knew Itachi and his summon were pretty close–as close as a bad-tempered tomcat and somebody like Itachi could possibly be–but cats were _cats_. Like the Inuzuka's ninken, they'd lived with humans for countless years. Still, Jiraiya seemed adamant.

"Okay, this next try, I'm going to get it. I _will,_" Naruto declared.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Jiraiya said, rising to reclaim his patch of shade.

Naruto prepared the signs and concentrated. Now that he had a better idea of how much chakra summoned how much toad, he was better able to estimate, and this time decided to be a lot more generous. He slapped his hand against the ground a second time. A toad with burnt-orange skin landed in the lapping water with a faint plop. He waved the last wisps of smoke from his face, looked up at Naruto, and said, "Yo."

"_See_?" Naruto said triumphantly to Jiraiya's back. In his effort to prove his teacher wrong, he'd _over_estimated by quite a lot, and the woozy feeling that had laid him up this morning was sidling back.

Jiraiya turned around, looked at Naruto, and then looked at the small but nonetheless nearly mature toad that was definitely Gamakichi. "Your control is… better than I thought," Jiraiya conceded.

Naruto crouched in front of Gamakichi, resting his forearms against his knees. "You _are_ the same tadpole I talked to before."

"That was me," he agreed. "I sure remember you. It's not like we get many humans in Mount Myōboku besides that old fart."

"I'm sitting right here, you brat!" Jiraiya yelled from against his chosen tree trunk.

Gamakichi ignored it and peered up at Naruto. "Not a human expert or anything, but, uh… you're not lookin' so hot."

"I'm fine, I can keep–"

"No," Jiraiya said, in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

Naruto blinked. He would've fought it had he not felt so lousy, just because that was the sort of thing he did. "Okay, well, maybe we can pick up again tomorrow. Tell your dad I said hi and that I'm going to get him over here as soon as my head isn't so wobbly. Oh… and thanks, for letting me sign the contract. That too."

"Will do," Gamakichi said. "And summon me again. I like you. Can't do much in the way of fighting yet, but I'm gonna hit that growth spurt any time now, so… later."

"I wasn't ready to give up yet," Naruto complained, as the small toad disappeared.

"You keep going, you'll be drawing on the Kyūbi's chakra," Jiraiya cautioned. "_I_ wanted to see what you could do with it, but Itachi asked me in no uncertain terms not to push things. Since you're down to the dregs, now is as good a time as any for me to inspect your seal. Take your shirt off and lie down."

Naruto did as he asked, and balled it up to place beneath his head as he settled himself on the ground. "Will this hurt?" he asked, as he letting a pinch of chakra flow into his middle to illuminate the seal.

"Shouldn't, at least not for long," Jiraiya said, peering down at the design. He placed his right hand over Naruto's navel and held it there for several minutes, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Naruto felt a buzzing ripple out from the seal across the rest of his body, but the sensation wasn't painful. Mostly it just tickled. Jiraiya sent out one final exploratory pulse of chakra the made Naruto feel for half a second like he'd stuck his tongue in an electrical outlet, then sat back, looking somber. "Done. You know how your seal works?"

"Mm. Itachi-sensei explained it," Naruto said, sitting up to pull his shirt back on. "I know the Kyūbi's chakra mixes with mine in a sort of loop. It's not really a locked door so much as a valve."

"Exactly," Jiraiya said. "Before she died, the Shodai's wife had the opportunity to redesign the seal so it was tailored precisely to your mother's chakra strength and flow, and the transfer was at a time and place of her choosing–she was a hundred and twenty and pretty sick, so she was ready to move on. The seal she gave Kushina was airtight–as good as her own–and there's not a shinobi alive who could match that woman in fuinjutsu.

"Right now yours is still shut tight. But... I can feel the tiniest instability in the structure itself. It's so small I almost missed it on the first pass, but it's there, and it will widen under stress. Given the circumstances under which the Yondaime had to place it on you… he couldn't afford to be as thorough as Mito. Your seal _is_ weakening, Naruto. Very slowly, but it is."

He clenched his jaw, trying to keep the jolt of dismay locked inside, but his breath came out uneven anyway. "I've already let the Kyūbi kill someone once… a missing-nin from Kiri who… did a very kind thing I'll never be able to thank him for. I can't let that happen again. I'm not going to force Itachi-sensei or the Old Man to put me down like a rabid dog. I'd kill myself first."

"Hey, _hey… _kid," Jiraiya said, tapping him beneath the jaw. "Chin up. I'm not Uzumaki Mito-sama, but when it comes to fuinjutsu I'm no slouch, either. Minato entrusted me with the key to that seal on your belly because he knew I had the best chance of keeping that from ever happening. I _am_ an irresponsible bastard–not gonna deny it, for the skirt-chasing and for a hell of a lot other reasons… but I'm not gonna leave you to fight this demon back alone."

-ooo-

Sasuke was getting faster. He could feel it. He still hadn't managed to scratch Itachi, but yesterday his kunai had caught on a loose thread and torn a satisfyingly long rent in his sleeve, which was closer than he'd ever gotten before. He was so flush with that triumph he'd only started to get annoyed with Itachi for his tardiness within the last hour or so. He'd claimed there was 'one quick thing' to take care of at ANBU headquarters, instructed Sasuke to warm up without him, and split off for the city center.

It was a clear, cool day, and stretching out in the grass for a nap would have been lovely if they weren't under a deadline. They were only a couple days away from departure, which meant he had the rest of today to train, and then the next to rest his sore muscles, top off his chakra reservoir, and pack his supplies.

He checked his watch again–the hour hand had crept past nine o'clock. Unlike Naruto's ersatz trainer, his elder brother usually had a good reason for his tardiness. Sasuke got up and dusted off his shirt, ready to go looking for him before the whole morning could drain away.

As he was replacing his gear belt, he felt a faint shiver slither up and down his spine, then it was gone. He whipped around, startled, but saw nothing. A vee of ducks passed squawking overhead. Gentle wind ruffled through his hair, and the grass, and the tiny white flowers dotting the meadow. He still unhooked the catch on his kunai holster and pulled one into his hand.

"If you were trying to get the drop on me, it didn't work," he called. He placed one foot behind the other and pivoted halfway around, scanning the shadow of the trees in front of him. "Can we get started already? It's nearly half past nine."

The insects continued to drone into the hush.

"This isn't funny, Nii-san," he said, and activated his sharingan. He had just been enjoying a peaceful, sunny day, in the middle of Konoha with the spherical barrier glowing overhead and ANBU agents everywhere, and he should have been perfectly safe.

Just like Umino Iruka should have been perfectly safe, and now his name was carved on the Memorial Stone.

He took a step towards the village center, ready to break into a sprint towards the safety of a crowd–maybe it was nothing, maybe he was being childish, but he felt like he was being watched. He took another step and sudden agony shot out of the scar on his left wrist, careening through his fingers and as high as his shoulder. He stumbled and fell to one knee, clutching his wrist against his chest. The pain was so intense he almost lost the grip on the kunai in his other hand.

The whisper of scales against the soil was all the warning he received before the first attack came. He turned and threw; his sharingan guided the kunai between the serpent's bared teeth and straight into its brain. He pushed himself up and bolted down the training ground's gradual slope, but didn't get far. The grass all around him was shivering against the wind. He brought his hands together to scorch a path through, but his left was stiff with the echoes of pain. A snake the circumference of his calf shot out of the grass, and the chain of signs was broken before he could complete it. He dodged its strike for his arm as another, even larger snake moved to loop its head around his belly; it received a coil full of downed log. Sasuke found his footing again several meters to the side, into the line of trees, and pulled out two more blades. Concealed behind the tangled roots were three dead ANBU agents. Their limbs had been twisted into unnatural angles and what he could see of their skin was swollen and mottled purple. Their katana were still sheathed.

If three of Konoha's best had no chance to even draw their weapons against Orochimaru, what was _he_ going to do?

A dozen more serpents rose out of the ground, all clustered around a black mass unfolding into the shape of a man. He could hear more behind him, slithering though the tree branches. Orochimaru took a deep, languid breath and fixed his hungry grin on Sasuke. Struggling to keep them tight in shivering hands, Sasuke raised his blades, pacing backwards. The weight of his malice was wringing strategies and plans from his head like water from a cloth. All he could feel was terror quaking up and down his body, crushing his lungs and shearing across his guts.

"There is really no point to this, Sasuke-kun, and I would much prefer you weren't badly damaged," Orochimaru said, advancing into the trees.

Sasuke cast his gaze around desperately for some break in the writhing snakes, some reprieve, some _way out_. There was none. Orochimaru shot forward, one hand reaching for Sasuke's face.

Something strange happened then, something Sasuke had never seen before. Time slowed. The ghosts of Orochimaru's arm continued past the solid flesh itself, and he realized he could see where his fingers would land before they did so. Sasuke dropped low and raised his knives, scoring a slice across the side of his opponent's white hand. He let his momentum carry him in a tumble past Orochimaru. He scrambled up again, but in his panic didn't see the rock buried in the leaves before him. His sandal caught on it and he lost his balance, striking his forehead on one of the tree roots. It wasn't hard enough to knock him out, just shake his focus loose for a moment. He flipped onto his back and scrabbled backward on his palms, forgetting his weapons, desperate only to escape.

Orochimaru had stopped, looking with amusement at the leaking cut on his hand.

Sasuke must have hit his head harder than he thought… because now he was seeing double. Orochimaru's robes had taken on a blue sheen, and beneath them was the very definite outline of a set of fatigues and a Konoha flak jacket. Then he said, in a completely different–far more familiar–voice, "Hm. First time you have ever managed to do _that_. I believe we can count this exercise a success."

The snakes and the bodies of the dead ANBU agents melted into mist, followed by Orochimaru's cloak, hair and pale skin. "Well done, Sasuke," Itachi said, as the last of the genjutsu dissipated. He brought his bleeding hand briefly to his mouth and then dropped it to shake out the faint sting. Sasuke let his head drop back into the dirt as he struggled to relocate the proper rhythm of his breathing. Itachi walked over to peer down at his brother's prone body. "How hard did you hit your head?"

Sasuke reached up to brush his aching temple, which didn't seem to be bleeding. "Not hard," he panted. "That was like… whole-life… flashing-in-front-of-my-eyes… breakfast-losing… pants-wetting _fear_!"

"Although you didn't succumb to either instinct, I notice," Itachi commented. "I brought you a change of clothes just in case. It happens more often than most people are willing to admit."

"You… _augh_! I mean I… I… _AAAAAAUGH_!" Sasuke moaned, finally pushing himself up to a sitting position. "I seriously thought I was about to die!"

"That was the point. What do you think of your third tomoe?" Itachi asked.

"It's like I can see where you're going to move before you move there," Sasuke said. "This is _amazing_. That's how you've always been able to block…"

"Ah. That is why I have been pushing your reaction time so hard–I was training your muscles to respond as fast as your eyes can track the threat," he said, and smiled faintly. "I am sorry about the deception this morning. But since the only alternative would have been to put you in _actual_ life-threatening danger, I hope you understand why I did it. Mastering your sharingan less than a year after awakening it is quite an accomplishment. Even I didn't progress that quickly."

"Really? Thank–" he began, and then faltered as he felt a contamination seep into his triumphant mood. "What did you say?"

"You… mastered your sharingan?" Itachi repeated, puzzled. "To advance so quickly is very unusual. Would you like to stop by the onigiri place you like before we head home to pack? My treat."

"No, I didn't master anything," Sasuke said, a horrible suspicion dawning. "There's a fourth level. Why would we be celebrating something I haven't done yet?"

"Did our uncle tell you that? One of the neighbors?" Itachi asked lightly. "They must have been teasing you, Sasuke. We both know you can be a bit–"

Sasuke felt the foundations of his trust crumbling, a tower built on sand. "No… it was Tō-san—a long time ago. He never joked with me. He meant everything he said."

"You must have misheard," Itachi told him, turning in the direction of the village center. "Have you ever seen anyone with more than three tomoe?"

Sasuke didn't follow him, and when he realized it Itachi stopped in the long grass. "I didn't 'mishear'. I remember now," Sasuke said, and swallowed. "We were finishing our breakfast tea, Ka-san was doing the dishes. You were gone, probably on a mission, and he told me there were special conditions that… what is the Mangekyō sharingan?"

"A discovery of Madara's–it was marked a kinjutsu after the Rebellion," Itachi said softly, his back to Sasuke, and finally turned. "He would have had us tear ourselves apart for it, and when we loyal Uchiha finally struck his taint from our clan, we struck all knowledge of his jutsu from the clan records. It was the wish of our Clan Head and of the Hokage that all knowledge of it die with this generation of Uchiha._ Please_, I am asking you to let this go."

"I heard Naruto got his teacher to show him a kinjutsu," Sasuke accused. "Why not me?"

"I am here to train you, and what you are asking for cannot be taught," Itachi said forcefully. "All kinjutsu come with a price. In the case of what Kakashi has chosen to teach Naruto, the price is paid only by the user himself—in strength, in pain, or in debility. Your brother has such massive chakra reserves that jutsu that would kill other genin are open to him. His is a special case. The Mangekyō sharingan is not that kind of kinjutsu. Sasuke… please… let's go home. I've done all I can for you, I swear it."

Sasuke dashed forward and caught his arm. "It should be my decision, whether or not it's too much to pay. Tell me! I'm stronger than you think."

"It _is _too great," Itachi insisted. "I say this because I care for you. This jutsu will destroy your body and your life."

"You have one more chance," Sasuke whispered dangerously. "The _truth_, Nii-san."

Itachi bowed his head in defeat, and Sasuke released him. "If I tell you this, you will promise me you will never speak of it to another soul… especially any children the future may hold for you."

Sasuke nodded once. "I swear."

"I kept this knowledge from you because some part of me was afraid there was the chance… the _slightest chance_… that you might follow in Madara's footsteps. You know we are of his bloodline. I've seen it in you, Sasuke–you crave strength and acknowledgement, and have been willing to sacrifice more than is wise to achieve those things. And I know how reluctant you are to forgive. Those flaws were what brought so much grief to Uchiha, from the time the village was founded until Madara's death a hundred years later."

Sasuke couldn't contest the charge; even trying would be lying to himself and to Itachi. Instead, he said, "I know I've struggled before. I've made some bad choices. But… I'd like to think that I won more of those battles than I lost. I just want to know that when you say something to me, that I can believe you, because… what you think of me… it's really important."

With a gesture towards a split boulder, Itachi indicated they both sit. "What do you remember of my jōnin sensei, Shisui?" he asked quietly.

"Some," Sasuke said, suddenly uncertain. "Even though he was a lot older than us, I know he was your best friend before you met Kakashi-san. He drowned in the Nakano River my first year at the Academy. His father–one of the last clan elders, I think–got really sick that year and died in the spring. He got so upset that he ended up falling-down drunk the night of the memorial service. They said he was walking home, probably got dizzy crossing the bridge, and the current was just too–"

"No," Itachi said, cutting him off. To Sasuke's astonishment, there was a glint of tears in Itachi's eyes. "He drowned in the river because I drugged him and then held his head under the water until he stopped breathing. That was the price of the Mangekyō sharingan."

"W-why?" Sasuke whispered, his chest growing tight. "No… that's impossible. You couldn't have done something like…"

"I tried—and failed—to turn his loyalties back to the Hokage. He would have exposed your mother and me to the rebels. I had no choice." Itachi lowered his forehead into his hand, his fingers tightening on the locks of loose hair that framed his face. "I still feel it, Sasuke, every time I have used that power. I feel the icemelt rushing past me. I feel his blade slip under my ribs as we struggle. I hear him cursing, pleading, then begging until I finally force his head under. This power is no gift. This is a _curse. _

"If you want it, if you _must_ have it, you will have to go home, take the katana from the stand in the master bedroom, and slit your mother's throat."

"Nii-san!"

"Or Naruto, perhaps?" Itachi continued, brutally still. "Challenge him to a sparring match, just like you have a hundred times before. This time, poison your blades from the vials in Ka-san's workroom, second row and third from the left. That ought to be enough to kill even a jinchūriki."

"That can't be…" Sasuke mouthed, rising from his seat.

"You asked for the truth and I gave it to you," Itachi murmured, standing as well. His gaze fell from Sasuke's face into the grass. "However ugly it may have been. Do you understand why I chose to keep–"

Sasuke considered 'understanding', accepting the words his brother had spoken like he'd accepted so many others. Another lie. Another. And another. He parted his lips, ready to say 'yes', and… spit in Itachi's face instead. His eyes were stinging. Itachi wiped it from his cheek, looking stricken. He steeled himself against it and plowed on. "I can't believe I almost fell for it again," he said, so furious he could only laugh. "You really are amazing, you know that? Clever story about Shisui-san, coming up with the one condition I would never… I would _never_ try to fulfill. All the records were destroyed? The elder clan members bound to secrecy? Isn't _that_ convenient.

"For a second there I really thought you were fighting back tears. Very convincing. Did you practice?"

"Sasuke, I'm not lying to…" he started, reaching out with one hand

Sasuke knocked it away, his sharingan flaring. "DON'T _TOUCH_ ME, ITACHI!"

-ooo-

Sasuke found his solitude in the branches of the massive trees rooted near the Hokage Monument. His head was storming with so much confusion he felt ill. He had caught Itachi in another lie, then another. So furious was he with this betrayal he had called him by name, putting a chisel to the bond of brotherhood and striking it hard. Yet what Itachi thought of him… what Itachi _meant _to him… it wasn't something he could so easily cast away, no matter how hard he tried.

And Itachi had seen Madara in him. Everything Madara had touched had been poisoned by his unquenchable ambition and lust for vengeance against a man who'd been dead a thousand years–a man… a hero… a _god_ who had saved all of humanity from the terror of the Jyūbi. History turned in spirals, time spinning ever on as people passed through the same trials again and again. Madara had been a genius that outshone genius and a liar without equal. His younger brother Izuna had remained forever in his shadow despite his own formidable abilities. The end to _their_ story had been the bitterest betrayal of a kind the clan's history texts would not name.

What Sasuke could not tell was whether Itachi had said this to him because he believed it to be true… or because he _was_ another liar without equal.

His brother's cat summon landed on the branch before him on silent paws; as he'd expected, he would not be allowed the full day with the privacy of his own thoughts.

"Thank you for finding him for me, Hyōkurō," Mikoto said as she landed on a higher limb. "You can go."

The black cat nodded, accepting her thanks. He looked at Sasuke with his piercing green eyes, folded his ears back, and hissed at him. "You really have a way with words, you know that?" he said, a growl in his voice, and trotted back down the branch and began working his way down to the ground.

Mikoto dropped down to join Sasuke on his chosen branch. He curled his knees closer against his chin and didn't meet her eyes.

"Itachi was waiting at the kitchen table when I finished the session with Sakura. Do you know what he said to me?" Mikoto asked, resting her hand against her hip. Her voice was low and cold, a bleak winter wind. "'I've broken our family and I can't fix it. He hates me, Ka-san. He _hates_ me.' If you were trying to hurt him, Sasuke, I would like you to know you have succeeded beyond your wildest dreams."

"What is the Mangekyō sharingan?" Sasuke asked, ignoring the rebuke.

"A curse," Mikoto answered. "Exactly as Itachi said, and not something I am willing to discuss with you further. You know why he kept this from you. It was on my order."

"I'm not Madara."

"Itachi saw the possibility. So have I," Mikoto said. She exhaled slowly. "Because I've seen the same in myself. The color of your hair isn't the only thing you inherited from me, Sasuke. Itachi and Naruto… I don't think they'll ever understand what true hatred feels like, or how difficult it is to turn away from it. When I went to the Naka Shrine to face Madara, I knew that if tried to land the killing blow myself, to avenge Kushina, my mother, and my elder brothers, I would doom my children and all of Konoha–and it took every fiber of resolve in my body not to try anyway. I don't know if it's in our blood or not, but I have struggled with this my entire life, and I have done many _very _unkind things because of it. It takes a lot courage and lot of strength to choose justice or forgiveness over revenge.

"I am asking you for that now. Any time we twisted the truth away from you was because you weren't ready to hear it. Because it would have hurt you more than we could heal."

"And knowing that you're always going to treat me like a child _doesn't _hurt?" he shot back. "That there is nothing in the world I can do to measure up to Itachi? That this is how it's going to be for the rest of my _LIFE_?!"

"Listen to me! He's only–"

"Itachi was my age during the Rebellion. He helped plan the whole thing!" Sasuke shouted. He activated his sharingan and finally looked up at his mother. "Three tomoe. See? Just like he had. Ka-san… what you're telling me is that you trust me to lead a team, to kill, but never to know these secrets about my own family? Is there anything else you've been not-telling me?" he snarled.

He hadn't expected her to say yes. She did not speak the word, but to his horror his mother pressed her lips together, tears threatening to fall.

"So you're keeping things from me too?" Sasuke said, horrified. "Before the Rebellion, you… you knew more than you would let on. You lied to me too. Led me around in circles. I thought it'd stopped. Looks like I was wrong."

"It would hurt too much, Sasuke, please don't…" Mikoto whispered.

"If you can't tell me the truth, leave me alone," he ordered.

"I was…" she mouthed. "I was the one who…" She tried and failed to force it out. Her teeth closed over the next word and would not release it into the still air between them.

Sasuke pushed himself up against the rough bark. In all his life, there had been only one person he knew had never lied to him. He disappeared from the cluster of trees and released the shunshin at the borders of the Uchiha district. He passed under the line of plain torii gates that marked the entrance to the cemetery atop the gentle hill.

At the grave on the end–just a block of rough granite with one face polished–Sasuke knelt against the ledge and placed the handful of wildflowers he'd gathered at the stone's base. The name carved into it was blurring with misery. "Tō-san, what do I do? Please… please help me."

-ooo-

The tears spent, he sagged against the grave marker to watch a line of ants thieve crumbs from another mourner's offering. He looked up as he heard footsteps grind against the gravel path.

Without speaking, Naruto stuck his hands in every single one of his pockets (tossing out a gum wrapper and a rubber band), before finally locating the tail end of a package of tissue and handing it to Sasuke. "I'm not giving you a hug or anything. I'm still pissed at you for ditching Sakura-chan."

"Hn. Did I look like I was going to ask for one?" Sasuke commented disdainfully… but still took the tissues. He blew his nose and put them aside. "We're too old for that kid stuff anyway."

Naruto dropped down beside Sasuke, clutching his ankles. "I heard what happened." He bit his lip. "Nii-chan doesn't like to show it, but I can tell–he was really, _really_ upset when I got home. I don't know what this thing is that he's been keeping from you, but he must have a reason."

"He does. He knows I have a chance at overtaking him and he'll never let me–"

"SASUKE!" Naruto shouted, exasperated, shooting back to his feet. "While you were sick in the hospital, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't sleep… when all the monitors started going nuts and the nurses and doctors rushed into your room and chased us out–that was the most scared I've ever seen him in my entire life! Do you seriously think everything he's done for us is some kind of act? WHAT'S _WRONG_ WITH YOU?!"

Sasuke winced, but still hunched closer to the ashes of his anger. "You just don't get it. He was going to keep this from me forever. He was going to lie to me _forever_."

"AUGH! Would you stop being an ass for two minutes and _use_ that amazing brain of yours?!" Naruto said forcefully, then folded back down again. "It's not like I don't know how you feel. I've asked and asked, and nobody will tell me who my birth father was. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he was a traitor. Maybe telling me his name would hurt Ka-chan more to say than it would hurt me to hear. Maybe he was a shinobi so brave and so amazing he made enemies I'm not strong enough to handle yet. It hurts to know they think I'm not ready. But I trust Ka-chan and Tō-chan. I'm not saying they don't drive me a little crazy, dangling that just out of reach, but we wouldn't be a family if we didn't.

"So Nii-chan used to mess with you, hold you back, always put himself between you and all the horrible things this world's got to throw at us? Maybe he'll stop once you're tall enough to look him in the eye. Maybe he won't. I don't know. He's our big brother. Doing things that drive us insane sometimes is his _job_.

"It bugs the crap out of me how both of my brothers keep things to themselves until it blows up in everybody's faces. I know I bug the crap out of you two 'cause I talk too much and like being around other people all the time, even though you both like quiet and a lot of time by yourselves. Ka-chan snaps at everyone when she can't get her way at work, and we've all tripped over the beer cans Tō-chan forgets on the porch."

"It's more than that, Naruto. I still can't trust him," Sasuke whispered. "I don't think I ever will."

Naruto scooted closer, until their knees were almost touching. "You know you can trust me, can't you? If there's anyone who'd never lie about something this important… who'd always come clean… I wanted to be the one to tell you–I think Nii-chan loves you more than he loves anyone in the whole world." He paused, swallowed around the catch in his throat. "Even me." He sniffed, self-consciously rubbing beneath his nose with one hand. "It's just us here, right?"

"Just us," Sasuke confirmed.

"I still owe you a punch in the mouth, but…" Naruto mumbled, glanced briefly around, and put his arm around Sasuke. One brief squeeze on his brother's shoulder and he let his arm drop. "Dinner'll be ready soon. See you at home? You can hide in your room and eat it if you want to… just come back."

Silence.

"Sasuke, please. You found this family for me… _you._ Since I could remember, it was what I'd wanted more than anything, and on the playground, on our first day of school... you made my wish come true. It might be a little cracked and broken now, but it's mine... and I'm not losing any of the pieces."

He looked over at Naruto, sighed, and said, "Fine… I'm coming."


	18. Chapter 18

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

**Disclaimer to the Continuity Disclaimer**: I started reading the Naruto manga again because somebody told me we finally get that peek under Tobi's mask. Which, as of chapter 599, we did. Now let us all join hands and collectively headdesk until we have concussed ourselves, because that was the stupidest goddamn plot twist in this entire manga. SENSE–KISHIMOTO DOES NOT WRITE PLOTS THAT MAKE IT.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 18 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Team Seven undertook the return to Sunagakure in a miasma of melancholy. The sweetness of desert spring had almost completely evaporated under the glaring sun, and the fields of flowers that had greeted them on their first journey to the village were already yellowing and heavy with seed. The Konoha genin arrived the afternoon before the tournaments began to find the village drowning under the crowds of spectators and tourists. It was smaller than their own village by a significant amount, and the crush was suffocating. It was too hot to do much in the way of exploring after they were escorted to their lodgings, so they adopted the native custom of resting until the sun went down and the street festival spun into full swing. Lee chased his fellow genin out of the hotel, determined to enjoy himself with the same dedication he applied to everything else, but his enthusiasm failed to shore up everyone else's swaying confidence.<p>

The morning of the matches, a Suna chūnin led them to the arena. Like the rest of the village, the design was drab and utilitarian, although there were now colorful banners and flags snapping from the exterior. The very wide outer walls were hollow, providing a cool space for vendors and spectators to escape the heat of the open-air seating. Their guide led them to the green room deep inside the structure (which was restricted from public access) to limber up and conduct any last-minute checks on their equipment.

The competitors from Suna itself had arrived earlier. The room contained only a table holding some cups and pitchers of ice water. Temari was sitting at it in quiet meditation, with her fan across her thighs. She opened her eyes at the creak of the door's hinges. "You don't look well, Sasuke-kun," she said, as he passed the threshold. "The heat not agreeing with you?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes and didn't answer her. He found a corner to warm up and concentrated very hard on ignoring the other genin.

Naruto was next through the doorway. He tried smiling at Gaara, who didn't return it. He was standing by himself against the wall, with his hands tucked against his elbows. Naruto sighed. He was really, really hoping there hadn't been any backsliding into murderous psychosis while he'd been gone. He found his own patch of floor to start loosening up. As soon as he was settled into the stretch, his legs spread apart and his palms on the floor, Gaara pushed himself free of the wall and came over to crouch next to his brother.

"I feel strange," he said quietly.

Kankurō paused from inserting the last pin into the finger joint of his puppet. "Like what kind of strange?" he asked, scooting further away as nonchalantly as he could.

"I can't breathe right," Gaara told him. "My heart is beating too fast and my stomach feels twisted up. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?"

Curious, Naruto unbent himself from stretching out his hamstrings and moved on to his shoulders, watching them from the corner of his eye.

Kankurō looked, more than anything, _confused_, but he did answer Gaara's question without any venom. "Uh, I could tell you why _I_ feel that way right now, but you? Not a clue."

"Explain," Gaara ordered, and then added, belatedly, "Please."

This only served to confuse his brother more. He looked to Temari for rescue and was scrupulously ignored. "I'm afraid I might lose," Kankurō said, in a voice barely above a whisper. "Or get really hurt. That's usually why people feel nervous before a fight."

"I see," Gaara murmured, still perplexed. "I have never been afraid of those things. I am still not."

"Um, forgot to pee," Naruto announced loudly, crossing over to them and grabbing Gaara by the arm. "Show me where the bathroom is, would you?" he asked, dragging the other boy out the door and down the hall.

When he judged them a sufficient distance from the other genin, Naruto let him go. "You're… worried you might really hurt _me_, aren't you. Good sign. That's a relief."

The redhead thought about this for a moment and then nodded yes. "Why is it good?" Gaara asked. "This feeling is awful."

"If you feel awful just _thinking_ about letting Shukaku hurt me, imagine how bad you would feel if it did," Naruto prompted. "Imagine how you'd feel if you let it kill me. If my Kyūbi tries to punch its way out–when I get really scared or really angry–that's what I feel like. I grab on to that feeling and I don't let it go. That's how you hold a demon back, Gaara. You did it for me once. You can do it again… and again, and again, and again."

"I will try."

"You'll promise," Naruto corrected. "When you promise something to a good friend, you can't go back on it. Ever."

"I didn't know that," Gaara said, looking contemplatively down at the polished stone of the hallway. "I've… never had a friend before. But if that is how it works, I _will_ promise." He tried, very hesitantly, tugging the corners of his mouth up into a smile. It leaned slightly more towards creepy rather than amiable, but Naruto still gave him points for trying.

"I learned some pretty awesome moves this month, so I'm not saying you're gonna, but if you win, you're going to be fighting my friends, your brother, or your sister," Naruto said, leaning a little closer. "I'm also going to need you to promise not to kill them, or hurt them so bad being a shinobi is off the table."

"I promise not to kill your friends or injure them so severely they will not eventually recover."

"_Gaara_…" Naruto said warningly, leaning closer still, until they were almost nose to nose. "I told Temari I wasn't trying to turn you against your home village, and I meant it. If it were up to me I'd stuff you in my pack and carry you back to Konoha right the heck now, but it isn't, so I can't. When I leave again, you're going to have to find another reason to hold your demon back. A reason that lives here."

"I have tried being kinder to my siblings. It has made very little difference," Gaara said, starting to get huffy.

"I'm guessing you've hurt them both while you were growing up. Hurt them a _lot_. You took the trust they had in you as a brother and smashed it into tiny pieces." Naruto sighed. "Trust takes a lot of hard work to build–or rebuild–but it's not impossible if you keep at it. I did. If you can prove you're not going to let Shukaku hurt them anymore, I think they'd give you another chance. I really do. Maybe your father will even–"

"_Don't_," Gaara barked. "As far I am concerned, I do not have a father. He did this to me and to my mother. He killed her to put this demon inside me. That can never be forgiven."

Naruto broke off the conversation as one of the assistant proctors rounded the corner. He gave the pair an odd look but said nothing. He pushed open the door to the waiting room and said, "Hyūga Hinata, Haruno Sakura, you're on in five. I'd recommend making your way down to the interior observation platform."

They quickly complied, and Naruto gave Gaara one last look of sympathy before going to meet the two girls. "Good luck. You'll both do great," he said to them.

"Thanks," Sakura said. "You too." She took one more deep breath and followed after the assistant proctor.

Instead of making her way down the hall after Sakura, Hinata sagged against the wall, her pale face even whiter than usual.

"Are… you okay?" Naruto asked.

"NO!" she wailed, burying her face in her hands. "I-is it p-possible to d-die of nervous? They'll all be w-watching. My _f-father_ will be w-watching." Her hands slid downward to her shuddering chest and she moaned, looking very dizzy. "I don't f-feel well. M-maybe I should find the p-proctor and f-forfeit my–"

"What the–no, Hinata, you got this far, don't have a panic attack on me now!" he said, rushing over to prop her back up. "Remember that thing I told you about breathing? It's really important when you're trying to not faint. Stand up straight. Hands at your sides. Count to three in, count to three out. Three in, three out. There you go."

He kept his arms around her until he was she wasn't going to topple over unconscious, and then a little longer, because her hair was pleasantly soft against his cheek and smelled faintly of jasmine. "You didn't freeze up when you were fighting Kurotsuchi, and that girl was trying to kill you," he whispered into her ear. "Are you telling me you're more afraid of disappointing your dad than you are of _dying_?"

"I… I… um…"

"Hinata?"

"Mm?"

"_Priorities_," he said, stepping away to look into her pale eyes. "Look… Sakura-chan wants this promotion and she isn't going to just let you win, even if she sort of wants you to. If you lose, in front of all of those people–"

Hinata whimpered.

"I'm still not letting you give up. The condition you got to stay Clan Heir was nuts in the first place. Do you know how few Konoha rookies usually make it through to the finals? I don't think it's happened since… since Itachi-sensei's first test, and that was more than ten years ago! It's like your dad was setting you up to fail. That is a seriously messed-up thing for a parent to do to their kid, and then to up the stakes even more, to put your entire future on the line… no. No _way _you're letting him get away with that_._ You don't deserve to be treated that way.

"You stood up to him for Neji in front of Ichiraku. I know you can stand up for the rest of the Branch House. But you're not done. Hinata…" He raised one finger and poked her hard just below the joining of her collarbones. "_You_ are worth fighting for, just as much as they are. Why the heck does it matter if you're the strongest fighter in the Hyūga? How much fighting does a Head actually do for their clan? Next to zero, that's how much.

"What a good Clan Head's supposed to do is talk and listen. She stands up for her clan's interests in the Jōnin Council so they're treated right. She's the judge that helps solve problems and settle arguments before they turn into grudges that could break the clan apart. She makes sure everyone has the tools to make themselves as strong as they can be, and that they're protected and cared for when their strength starts to fade."

Naruto took her by the shoulders and leaned in closer, until their foreheads were almost touching. "I think you'd be great at that, and if you don't want to do it, you'd be able to help pick someone who would be." He let his arms drop down hers and stopped at her hands, curling their fingers together for one final squeeze. "So whatever happens, whether you win or lose, you're not gonna let the Hyūga down." He smiled at her. "Now get going. You'll be late for your own match."

"Wait," Gaara said, finally approaching them. "Hinata, can I walk with you? I… have a question."

"Of c-course you can," she answered, bobbing her head and turning down the hall.

"From what I have heard today, your father has been very cruel to you," Gaara said, lengthening his strides to catch up to her. "Yet you love him anyway?"

"Yes," she said. "He's trying to do his best for my family. I-I can't hate him for that. See, it's…"

Nodding in satisfaction, Naruto left the two of them to their discussion and stuck his head in the green room one more time. "Anybody else need a pep talk while I'm down here? Last chance. Sasuke?"

"Shut _up_, dumbass."

-ooo-

The head proctor on the ground far below signaled with both hands. It was time. Sakura made her way down the uneven walls of the stadium, Hinata following a moment after. They paced around in tight circles, peering up at the tiny faces in the stands as an announcer made their introductions. Sakura waved at the Hokage in his seat, set on a platform of pillars draped in colorful cloth to shade him and the Kazekage from the sun; the other spectators were too high above for her to recognize. Her parents were up there somewhere, and so were Itachi, Mikoto, Tenten, Neji, Kiba, and Shino, and even her aunt and uncle and her old Academy teacher Mizuki and his fiancée. Win or lose, she was determined to put on a good show for all of them. Konoha was depending on her.

"Nothing permanently crippling, nothing potentially fatal," Sakura said, bringing her eyes back down and sliding her feet wide in the sand. "Short of that, I'm not holding back. Neither are _you_."

"A-agreed," Hinata said, as she did the same.

"You know the rules," the head proctor said. "Matches continue until a participant yields, dies, or I judge them unable to continue." He looked from one determined face to the other, raised his right hand, and dropped it swiftly between them. "Begin!"

As soon as the Suna jōnin leapt away, Sakura capitalized on Hinata's hesitancy to make the first move, and threw out the two tiny smoke bombs she'd concealed in her wrist guards and high-tailed it for the perimeter. The other girl was immediately seized in a violent fit of coughing, but the irritant inside wouldn't stall Hinata long.

The floor of the Sunagakure arena had been styled after an ancient ruin, choked with rubble, boulders, and broken pillars of sandstone. Without the relief of even a breeze, the heat rising from beneath her feet was suffocating. The smoke was starting to dissipate, and Hinata was no longer in it anyway, moving towards her. She wasn't trying for stealth; someone… Naruto… had probably told her Sakura had enough skill as a sensor to make that pointless.

This entire match was going to be nothing but a brutal game of tag–there would be no respite for either of them. Sakura flipped over the boulder behind which she'd been sheltering as Hinata charged her with a cry; she coiled the first genjutsu she'd prepared around Hinata's brain while she was still in the air. Regaining her footing several meters away, she watched Hinata stagger and drop to her knees. The illusion had mangled her sense of balance, disrupting her brain's ability to process the signals from her inner ear.

Hinata moaned, her fingers scraping against the sand as she struggled to regain her equilibrium. "N-naruto-kun?" she murmured, and then added, "No. Of course I'm not giving up yet."

He was probably up there cheering for Hinata; with her byakugan she could see clearly into the stands, and most Hyūga were taught to read lips. Sakura didn't mind. The girl needed his encouragement a hell of a lot more than she did. Drunkenly, Hinata pushed herself back to her feet and stumbled towards Sakura again. That was impressive. It was possible, although difficult, to reorient oneself through visual stimuli alone when placed under this genjutsu. Sakura herself had never properly managed it in her sessions with Mikoto. Hinata had–and in about a minute.

Sakura pulled out a fistful of envenomed senbon and aimed for Hinata's legs, trying to introduce a fairly harmless but still disabling numbing agent into her body to slow her down. They were another gift of Mikoto's–Konoha shinobi tended to be less reliant on poisons than their peers from Suna or Kiri, but her new teacher nevertheless maintained a comprehensive collection. The effects would wear off before Hinata's next match, if there was to be one.

Dizzy or not, Hinata was too agile to allow any of the needles to hit. Sakura knew Neji had been training with her, and in more than simple speed drills. Her cousin was a tactical genius, and the third stage was a test of mental agility as much as physical stamina. Winning a promotion meant balancing on the fine line between impressing the judges with sophisticated strategies and showy techniques while simultaneously fighting conservatively enough to have the energy for multiple matches. Hinata must be planning something, just like Sakura had been.

She knocked away the dark-haired girl's unsteady strikes, backing away as quickly as she could and taking the utmost care not to allow the bursts of chakra to graze her skin. The Hyūga heiress wasn't exceptionally strong, and she wasn't exceptionally fast, but she was better in close quarters than Sakura. Until this match was over, how _much_ better she was didn't make a lick of difference. She let the illusion of dizziness fade and quickly called up another, one that muted the sensation of knowing where one's limbs were positioned in space. The kinesthetic senses were critical to anyone whose life depended upon their agility, and to cripple them could reduce even a seasoned taijutsu specialist to the clumsiness of an Academy student, at least temporarily.

Sakura pulled out the last of her senbon and threw again; this time Hinata couldn't move her feet quickly enough to avoid all the projectiles. Skipping away over the debris-littered ground, Sakura took a few moments to regain her breath as Hinata struggled to pull the poison-slicked needle free of her calf. She was back on the offensive as soon as it tinkled against the stone.

It would take a little time for the poison's effect to spread, and Hinata didn't seem to want to give it over. She dove for her opponent again, the assault even fiercer than before. Sakura's concentration broke and the genjutsu with it when Hinata feinted to the left and managed to score a half-decent hit to Sakura's forearm. She scrambled backward and flicked out another one of the smoke bombs to give herself some space. The imprint of Hinata's palm bloomed red as the torn capillaries began to leak beneath her skin. The underlying muscle and connective tissue had been damaged too, although not so badly she could no longer form signs. She took the few minutes of rest she had to heal the muscle fibers as Hinata struggled to clear the irritation in her lungs.

Sakura sneezed. Her eyes were starting to burn. In the close, still air of the arena floor, she wouldn't be able to toss out any more of those or _she'd_ risk getting a lungful of it, too. They circled for a little while, Sakura darting around whatever cover she could find. It was five minutes before she could get enough space to catch Hinata in a third genjutsu. Sakura tightened it around her throat, filling her larynx and lungs with needles of ice. The shock of the cold and pain and the sensation of choking arrested her breathing, although only for a few moments. While her hands were pressed against her chest, Sakura attacked her from behind, sending her chakra wire snaking out to encircle her neck.

The sensation of suffocation still wasn't enough to kill Hinata's reflexes. She spun around and dropped; the ends of the wire shot over her head. Sakura withdrew them, edging backward over the uneven ground. Her heel hit a rock and she stumbled into a shadow. With a curse she realized Hinata had backed her into a corner, the remains of a stone dome that blocked escape from behind. Still gasping against the illusion, Hinata raised her hands, palms parallel to the ground. She wasn't trying to close to striking distance. So what _was_ she doing?

Sakura forced the wire out again, going for her ankle. Hinata let her hands drop in a blur and suddenly there were pieces of it all over the ground. "What in the…" Sakura whispered, spooling out more of the filaments.

Hinata struck out at her again, and Sakura's eyes caught a flash of blue just before the beam of chakra bit deep into her thigh. This wasn't like any jyūken technique she'd ever read about. Hinata's strike had been focused into a line only a few millimeters thick but several meters _long_, burning through the leather strap of her kunai holster and into the flesh beneath. Sakura cursed again under her breath and limped away as quickly as she could. Although she could tell Hinata's right foot had started to go sluggish and numb, her own injury meant she was still at the disadvantage.

She'd need even _more_ distance to evade those needle-thin chakra beams. She spread the illusory pain out wider, down Hinata's belly and legs. She gasped and staggered but did not drop pursuit, knowing full well the fierce ache was no true injury. She spun herself around a column and came nearly within striking distance of Sakura again, carving a few chips from the stone with her attack. This time Sakura went for Hinata's wrists with her chakra wire, coming up from below so the energy from her fingertips could not sever them, and sent it up with so much slack it was difficult to discern where tip was hiding.

_This_ time, Hinata was caught. Sakura twisted the ends around the top of the conical pillar, pulling Hinata's hands above her head. The restraints were protected from her chakra beams by the position of her hands and the curve of the stone; she wouldn't be able to cut them. Hinata gasped as the wire cinched tighter, drawing her higher against the face and all her weight precariously onto her toes.

Sakura dropped the genjutsu, panting. "I'm sorry, Hinata," she said. "Your father would have known if I'd just let you win. It was a good effort, but this is o–"

Hinata's face snapped up, unbeaten and unbroken. Energy pulsed down the wires, burning as it went. Sakura screamed as the nerves in her hands and forearms exploded with pain. Hinata unlooped the coil of wire holding her against the pillar, now saturated with her _own_ chakra. With her hands disabled Sakura couldn't release the catches holding the heavy gauntlets closed. Hinata used the slack to jerk the helpless Sakura forward and within her reach.

The tip of Hinata's fingers depressed the fabric of Sakura's dress against her breastbone, so gently she could barely feel it. That feather-light touch was all the force a jyūken user needed to completely sever their opponent's aorta, a wound so devastating that no medic would be able to heal it.

"You're right. It _is _over," Hinata whispered, not quite believing it herself. "Neji-niisan was right–your wire did work perfectly as a conduit."

"I yield!" Sakura called to the proctor, sinking to her knees. "The match is hers!"

The Suna jōnin reappeared on the arena floor with a gust of gritty wind. "First round is complete. Winner: Hyūga Hinata," the proctor pronounced over his radio, and the announcer repeated it for the spectators above.

As soon as the words passed his lips, Hinata let her byakugan fade, released Sakura, and shook the limp wire from her wrists. "H-here, let me help you up. The pain should fade soon, I'm so sorry I had to…"

"Wait a minute. Listen," Sakura said, her head bowed by the ache in her hands but a faint smile for her friend still gracing her lips. "Who do you think they're all cheering for?"

She reactivated her byakugan, looking high up at something Sakura could not see, and pressed her hands against her mouth.

"Hinata? What is it?" Sakura asked.

"Chichi-ue…" she murmured.

"What? What did he say to you?" Sakura pressed. To her horror, Hinata's eyes welled and the rush of emotion overflowed into a few silent tears. Injured or not, genin or not, inexperienced little girl or not, at that moment the furious inner Sakura wanted nothing more than to find the Head of the Hyūga clan up in the stands and deck him. There were hundreds… _thousands_ of people cheering his daughter's victory, and if he couldn't recognize her achievement, if he spoiled this moment for her…

"He… he said…" she began shakily, and her hands slid down her face to reveal a radiant smile. "He said… 'Well done, Hinata. Well done.'" She brushed the salty drops away with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, I'm fine, Sakura-san, really, he's just… never said that to me before."

-ooo-

The Kazekage yawned and made no effort to conceal his apathy. "That was hardly much to look at. The pink one was yours, was she not?" he said to Itachi, shifting his weight slightly in the uncomfortable stone seats. "That must be disappointing."

"Not particularly," said Itachi, who had been watching the matches standing beside the Hokage, flanked by his bodyguards. "I never expected her to win. I thought she conducted herself quite well, considering the extreme disadvantage she faced in the matchup."

"They both did," the Hokage agreed. "While it may make for poor entertainment, its subtlety is what makes jyūken so fearsome. And, while I do agree fighting a genjutsu specialist isn't thrilling to watch either, on the battlefield it is a rather different matter… as I'm sure my eventual successor would agree, considering one major and three minor hidden villages have had a standing 'flee-on-sight' order for him since he was sixteen."

Itachi mentally marked down another point for Konoha, bringing them to a tie at eleven since he woke up this morning. The last round had gone to Suna immediately before the match, for the small cups of completely unsweetened and incredibly foul coffee an attendant had brought up and propriety had forced him to drink. Though their villages were allies, Sarutobi loathed both the current Kazekage and his predecessor, and had been playing this game since the end of the Second Great War. Treaties of mutual aid were to be honored wholeheartedly, but that did not mean the leaders of either village had to pretend to like each other between military actions. Itachi had decided long ago the man sitting to his right was a miserable excuse for a father (and human being in general), and when Sarutobi retired had every intention of carrying on the tradition.

A Suna jōnin with black hair and a trim goatee appeared behind the Kazekage's seat. He placed his hand lightly on the man's shoulder and bent to whisper into his ear. "Our precautions are in place and ready. All barrier teams standing by. The next two contestants should be making their way down shortly."

"Good," he answered. His eyes flickered toward Sarutobi. "_This_ ought to be a fight worth watching."

Itachi sighed internally. He knew his brother would put forth his best efforts for his own reasons, but Naruto probably didn't fully grasp the political implications of his match, or how badly it would reflect on Itachi if he lost. The last time two jinchūriki had faced each other in combat had been on the battlefield, and that had been a long time ago. This match more than any others was what the men in their richly appointed private boxes wanted to see. Countless contracts, and no paltry amount of Konoha's economic stability, were riding on their victories.

"Was there anything else?" the Kazekage asked, as two small figures withdrew from the arena floor and were replaced by a second two.

"There was, sir," the man said. Something in his sleeve clicked faintly and a pinpoint drop of red appeared on the shoulder of the Kazekage's white robes. "Sasori sends his regards."

-ooo-

When Gaara found his place on the arena floor, he stayed rooted where he was, saying nothing, his hands tucked into the crook of his arms. Sand whispered out of the gourd on his back to pool around his feet.

"So… you plan on just standing there?" Naruto asked, grinding his sandal soles into the dust several meters away.

"Yes," Gaara answered.

"Figured. How do you feel about losing?"

"As long as you will heal after we finish, I do not think I care much which of us is the victor."

The head proctor was sweating as he approached them, and it wasn't entirely the heat. Gaara had already threatened to kill him at least once. He looked like he wanted to reprimand the young man for not taking his village's reputation more seriously, but took one last look at Gaara's scowl and he kept it clamped behind his teeth. "Fight continues until a participant yields, dies, or I declare it concluded. Match two: Gaara versus Uchiha Naruto," he called. "Begin!"

Naruto took a deep breath and put some more space between them, coming to land on an angular chunk of rubble. As Kakashi had taught him, the Ultimate Defense… wasn't quite. He got the feeling that the assassins the Kazekage had sent after his son, for whatever reasons of their own, must not have been trying that hard. Maybe the order to murder a little boy broken by his own selfish father was a bit too difficult to swallow.

A length of sand rose to arch over Gaara's head. Naruto closed his palms together, ready to react as soon as Gaara did. If he fought with the prudence of a squad captain _and_ made good use of his ability to rewrite his battle plans mid-fight, he could win this, and coincidentally prove to Itachi he'd been right to recommend his youngest brother for this test after all.

…though that was all provided Gaara kept his promise not to loose Shukaku. It would be up to him to set the pace for this match. Today would be the first time Gaara would be trying to restrain it in under the pressure of combat, and Naruto didn't plan on pushing him harder than his solidifying willpower could take–for both their sakes.

Gaara's fingers tightened slightly against his shirtsleeves. As soon as the first bullet of sand began to ooze out from the larger mass, Naruto's fingers intertwined into a short string of signs and he thrust his upraised hand before his face. With a boom like a thunderclap, a wall of wind came to meet the rain of sand, scattering the grains between the two jinchūriki. The coil protecting Gaara spread itself into an oval to shield his body from the strike, and the strong winds rushed harmlessly over him, kicking up a cloud of dust. The crowd let out a roar of appreciation at the sheer power of the counterattack.

Naruto followed up with another blast of wind aimed not a Gaara but the loose sand on the ground around him. It puffed up between them in a gritty whirlwind, further concealing Naruto's next move. One more sign and five copies of himself appeared. Four dove behind the copious cover of the stone debris and the original Naruto joined them, with one clone remaining as the decoy. This particular tactic he could thank Jiraiya for. Left to his own devices he probably would have simply thrown kage bunshin after kage bunshin at Gaara trying to make a dent in his defenses, but they were potentially even more useful as distractions. Grouchy old pervert or not, Naruto realized after only a week training with him that the Sannin was smarter–probably a _lot_ smarter–than his usual behavior let on.

Gaara raised his arm and the sand whirlwind slowly abated as he brought the particles under his own control. Naruto had expected this–Sasuke had reported he could control any soil or sand nearby, not just what he carried in the container on his back, although he wasn't nearly as quick with the stuff not already saturated with his own chakra.

From behind the cover of the boulders, he could hear the clone that had taken his place begin teasing Gaara, not cruelly, but enough to draw his fire and attention for a few moments. He wasn't fast enough to flit around the sand shield like Sasuke would have been, so Naruto had found another path, one that dovetailed with a strength of his own elemental affinity for air. Unlike all other elemental attacks, the fūton, properly controlled, was completely invisible. The sand shield could not defend Gaara against what it could not perceive. In the few moments he was occupied with the kage bunshin, the real Naruto readied his next jutsu.

The four of the bunshin in hiding popped up to hammer Gaara with an intentionally noisy squall of blades, quickly burning through their small chakra reserves. Predictably, the sand flowed and hardened before Gaara's body to protect him from the onslaught, and that was when the final layer of the attack fell into place. His timing had to be pure perfection or the setup would be for naught. The real Naruto rose silently behind one of the clones, went through a few hand signs, and thrust his fist forward. A column of air rushed out of his outstretched hand. It burst the clone apart with a puff of smoke, and the blunt mass of chakra hit the shell of sandstone shielding Gaara with so much force it was tipped violently backward. He'd spun around as he realized the real threat was behind him… just in time for his own sand to crack him in the face before it could fully disperse.

He was shoved backward, nearly losing his balance, but was cushioned by more of the sand that flowed around to steady him. When he righted himself, Naruto saw the second skin protecting his face was laced with cracks, and his left hand was pressed against his bloodied nose. Naruto whooped as he danced away from the immediate counterattack. First blood was his.

Despite his exhilaration, Naruto didn't press his advantage–Gaara's most dangerous opponent in this fight wasn't him. The sand lunged after its prey, hungry for his own blood in payment for the slight injury he'd done Gaara. As he felt the demon's lust for vengeance surge and crest, the redhead withdrew his attention from the external battlefield to the internal, squeezing his eyes shut in intense concentration. Naruto used the lull to scatter more of his kage bunshin around the field, ready to render whatever help the shifting course of battle might require.

After a long moment, most of the struggle contorting Gaara's face released. He gingerly wiped away the blood trickling down his lips with the sash looped across his chest, starting to pale from the sheer volume staining the white fabric. "You hit me," he said from behind his fingers. "_Really hard_."

"Yeah. Wasn't easy, either," one of the Narutos called, still trying to catch his breath from the string of acrobatics necessary to avoid the retaliatory sand. "Planning all that made my brain hurt."

"I've… never seen so much of my own blood before," Gaara said, making a very obvious effort to quell the furious screeching in his head. "I think it makes me want to hit you back. Not Shukaku. _Me_."

"Well go on, then," it said. "I've gotten–and given–more bloody noses from my team than I can count, and we're still friends. As long as you can leave that feeling in the sparring ring when you finish, you're golden."

Gaara nodded in understanding. He kept his eyes downcast, still nursing the freely bleeding injury, and his inscrutable expression did not betraying his intentions until his next attack hit. A sand geyser gushed up to encase the clone that had spoken. It yelped and tried to spring to safety, but was caught by the ankle and pulled back to earth.

It started to struggle madly, wincing as the sand crawled up to begin constricting around its limbs. "You were faking how much that hurt just now, weren't you," it accused.

"Only a little bit," Gaara confirmed. "Although I am glad you cared enough to give me time to recover. Do you surrender?"

"Nope. You caught the wrong me," it explained, and then burst in a cloud of sand and smoke.

Another kage bunshin popped up from behind the broken half-dome a distance away. "You blow, too slow!" it called merrily.

"Over here!" said another.

Grinning, the real Naruto also stuck his head out of his hiding place as well. Gaara was doing even better than he'd hoped at suppressing his bijū's bloodthirst. This was working. This was _fun_. "Aren't you tired of just standing there?" he hollered. "Pick one of me and put your money where your mouth–"

His words were crushed under a succession of tremendous explosion from above their heads. "What the hell? Why would they be setting off fireworks in the middle of our–"

"Those were not fireworks. Wait a moment," Gaara called. A small orb condensed from his sand and soared high in the air. He placed the fingers of one hand over his right eye and scoured the cloud of smoke with the other. "The air is too full of dust and it is too high for my third eye to see well… but those were _not_ fireworks," he said finally, releasing the technique and dropping his hand from his face. His voice went dangerously low. "The roof of the VIP box collapsed. There are men fighting on the kage's pavilion. What is happening here, Naruto?"

"How should I know?!" Naruto said, dismissing the clones and trotting closer.

"No one talks to me, so I listen," Gaara said quietly, as Naruto approached him. "The people here have said our fortunes turned around at Konoha's expense–that they would see us weakened again. They said the Kazekage thinks the alliance may not hold."

"The old man–I mean, the Hokage–would never!" Naruto said forcefully. "He's done some things that weren't so nice to protect Konoha, but he would never stab an ally in the back like that! It was our mistakes that got us into this mess, and he'd have us fix it ourselves too."

Gaara was not appeased. "So if it is not your Hokage, then who would attack my village?"

Naruto felt another spurt of pride at the other boy's choice of words. Not 'the' village, but '_my'_ village. He was surer than ever the hurts that had crippled Gaara so were finally starting to mend.

"If I had to guess? Probably the same ones we think attacked my village," Naruto offered. "They're called the Akatsuki. We don't know for sure what they want, but the Hokage had the bad feeling it might be jinchūriki. They haven't kidnapped anyone yet, but I guess that doesn't mean they never planned to start. If I'm right–and I really, really hope I'm not–this could get seriously bad for the both of us."

Gaara wavered, suspicious, and the finally the tension between them relaxed. "I understand," Gaara said. "You have risked your life to defend me. If it comes to that, I intend to do the same for you. Many people would wish to steal a strong weapon from their enemies. We need to find…"

"Gaara?" Naruto said hesitantly, jogging closer. The other boy had broken off to clutch his left eye, grimacing in pain. "Gaara, what's wrong?"

"No, I don't want to! Not here!" he groaned to himself. "Please, not here!"

Sand was welling up around his fingers, leaking from the dark markings rimming his eyes. He dug his fingers into the growing mass, his normally stony expression giving way to naked fear. The sand receded for a second, then surged out to consume even more of his face, pulling one side of his mouth up into a toothy leer. The stone gourd on his back had begun to melt like wax. He cried out in panic, tearing at the demon's flesh with desperate hands. He no longer even bled. The sand parted and closed again as his fingers raked through it.

"You were doing so well. Until a second ago you were _fine_. Why…" Naruto murmured in disbelief, drawing closer. "You promised me, Gaara. You can push it back. I know you can! Just like during the second test!"

Gaara moaned again. His legs buckled. "Feels different," he forced out, his speech slurred by the deformation of his lips. "It hurts this time! It _HURTS_!"

Despite his rising panic, he knelt quickly beside Gaara, curling his hand around the other boy's upper arm. It was as close as he dared come. The shape of his jaw had begun to warp, becoming more like the muzzle of a beast, the teeth elongating and reforming into deadly points. "You can't give in to it," Naruto said frantically. "Your family is here. _My _family is here. Prove to them you aren't the monster they're so afraid of!"

Another surge and another scream, and the sand spread across the unclaimed half of Gaara's face. He wrenched his arm away from Naruto's grip. When he opened his eyes they were both completely black, pierced by golden pupils. Naruto reached for Gaara again, and some of the sand whipped out like lightning to stab him through the palm. Startled, he withdrew his bleeding hand to cradle it against his chest. The pain the stirred his own bijū to wakefulness, and he felt every cell in his body begin to flush with its power. His senses sharpened, his muscles coiled to spring. It was then that he noticed there was something glowing inside the sand spreading across Gaara's chest, in the briefest glints–some kind of seal had been threaded through the white sash thrown over Gaara's shoulder.

_That_ couldn't be good.

Naruto's hand darted forward to tear it off, relying on the Kyūbi's chakra to heal whatever injury the sand might attempt to do him. One hard tug with his augmented strength was enough to tear it free, but whatever the aim of the seal had been, removing its medium gave the frantic Gaara no reprieve. The circle of dust beneath his feet began to shudder. The sand trickling down his back condensed at the base of his spine and elongated to curve over his head.

Naruto swore, backing away, and was about to toss the cloth aside when the chakra-saturated threads pricked into his _own _palm. Black zigzagged up his arm and disappeared into his sleeve. He dropped it with a yelp of dismay, but the damage had already been done. Suddenly and intensely light-headed, he swayed on his feet and fell to the ground when a red-hot spear of pain struck the centerpoint of his demon's seal. He hitched his shirt up. The spiral had tightened until the lines formed a circle of deep black that had begun to drip darkness down his belly. He could feel the chakra cloak enveloping him, impossible to suppress. The bleeding hole in his hand began to steam and closed over completely.

"No, no, no, _no_!" he breathed. He squeezed his eyes shut against the feeling of space and time warping, and when they opened again he found himself up to his chin in frigid, stinking water. The whole of his mindscape was quaking, the pipes overhead screeching with tension. The Kyūbi was laughing, raucously, as the current carried him towards the gate. He caught himself on the corner of the wall and dug in, clinging to the slimy stone for dear life. He didn't know what would happen if he was swept past the bars, and in the middle of a crowd of thousands he was _not_ going to find out.

The Kyūbi slammed itself against the bars of its cage when it realized that its vessel had not succumbed to the pull of the water. Stones and piece of piping dropped into the torrent, but the otherworldly metal did not buckle.

"What's happening to us!? What was that?" he screamed at the demon, coughing and gagging as the foul water filled his mouth.

"Someone has pried open your seal, at least for a short time, and Gaara's too. What masterful fuinjutsu–my compliments to the artist," the Kyūbi rumbled. "You might as well let go now. As soon as Shukaku breaks free, I am certain his first priority will be to kill you. Let me protect us–protect _you_."

"I won't!" Naruto insisted, tightening his aching fingers. "I don't care if I die!"

"Come, be reasonable," the Kyūbi said, threading its finger-like paws through the bars of the cage. "You need my help and I will not allow that deranged weakling to kill my vessel. It would be mortifying. I would be made a laughingstock."

"Like I care how _you_ feel about it!" Naruto yelled. "I just told you–if I die, I die! I'm not letting you out in the middle of anyone's village, whether it's my home or not!"

The demon thrashed in frustration, burying Naruto's head under a wave, and he surfaced sputtering. "You owe these people even less than you do the ones that spat upon you as you grew up, and please… do not delude yourself. If you did not have the protection of those self-righteous Uchiha they would resume it tomorrow. Don't be foolish. Accept my chakra and save yourself. I am giving it to you freely! A gift! Take it before the tanuki destroys us both!"

Naruto pressed his cheek against the chilly stone, clamping his lips shut before his tongue could betray him. Despite his bravado, the demon's offer was far more tempting than he would have admitted to the beast. He hadn't even seen his fourteenth birthday. He wasn't ready to die yet! He saw the two paths fork before him, a vision within a vision. Accept the offer, save himself, and abandon those he loved to the demon's whim, for there was no way to force a promise out of it that he could trust. Or reject the offer, die here, and hope his family and friends made it out of Sunagakure alive. Tears of agonizing indecision slid down his face to join with the water battering his body.

The scale teetered as a memory fell feather-light upon the balance–himself tumbling into the mud as Umino Iruka shoved him aside to take the spear that had been meant for his own heart. He had chosen to be Naruto's shield because he loved his students more than he feared his own mortality. Most shinobi gave lip service to that kind of sacrifice–it was part of the oath every one took when they accepted the rank of genin. But until they found themselves looking death in the eye, no one really knew, deep inside, if they were a coward or a hero.

He didn't recall much else his beleaguered teacher had tried to tell him over the years, but his very last words… those, he remembered: 'You're going to be great shinobi. All of you. I could tell.'

Now, a year later–a lifetime later–he truly understood why Iruka had done it, and it was a comforting thought that the last of his lessons had been well learned. Naruto's fear of the last greatest and unknown began to trickle away. He didn't really know what was supposed to happen afterward, but maybe, just maybe, there were two people he very much wanted to meet waiting for him on the other side. He renewed his grip on the stone and ignored the Kyūbi's progressively more frantic entreaties. He didn't know how long he held on to the bend of the wall, waiting.

Waiting. Waiting, waiting and waiting… and _he was still alive_. The tremors battering the dark halls of his mind had begun to abate, and with the rumbling quieted he could hear someone calling his name from the outside. The waters drained away. He felt hot sand against his cheek and opened his eyes. The sabotaging seal woven into Gaara's sash had burned out.

He could still see bits and pieces of humanity in the grotesque thing that used to be his friend, even through the voracious appetite of the sand–he'd been out for mere _seconds_.

"Naruto, get out of there! Stand up!" Sasuke screamed from the observation platform, leaning far over the rail. He stepped back to take a flying leap over the barrier, bounded down the uneven walls of the stadium, and landed hard on the arena floor. "This chakra is... over here! _Move_! _MOVE_!"

The red chakra cloak was still rippling across his skin when Sasuke reached him. He bent to help Naruto up and recoiled as his fingertips were singed by the unearthly heat. "Get up, get up, get _up_!" Sasuke said desperately, reaching again for Naruto's wrist despite the promise of pain bubbling through the bijū's chakra.

He slammed his will down on the thwarted and furious Kyūbi, and the chakra cloak melted back into his skin. The pressure against the seal was ebbing, but still strong enough he had no attention to spare for anything but holding the demon back. Sasuke hauled him to his feet and threw Naruto's arm over his shoulder. His was still too dizzy to walk, his vision blurring between the blinding sunlight of the stadium and the dimness of the halls of the Kyūbi's prison.

The sand in the center of the arena floor went soft as flour, and Gaara began to sink, up to his waist. The ground began to quiver, and then rise. Sand was dancing in the windless air. Sasuke quickened his pace, stumbling through the coarse current as it rushed into the middle of the open structure. There was an ominous cracking as the stones that made up the walls had their foundations stolen from beneath them. Robbed of their level support, the columns holding up the roof began to topple as the sandstone beneath was stolen to feed the growing mound.

The seal around his navel was still on fire, and he could barely muster the energy to lift his feet out of the sucking sand. A tidal wave of killing intent crashed down on them both and Sasuke, too, fell to his knees. He scrabbled for Naruto's arm again, coughing violently from the dust, and struggled to pull them both on to the meager safety of a piece of rubble.

The mound of sand had grown larger than a house and was still expanding. Between the falling grains two golden eyes opened, set in a black mask. Its face split in a grin that stretched nearly ear to ear. "Blood!" it thundered. "I will have _blood_!"

Its attention swung down to the two tiny figures sheltering in the debris and it grinned even wider. The shadow of its hand fell over them. Buried in sand, Sasuke half walked, half waded to where Naruto was struggling against the current. Tears of fear had cut runnels through the dust coating Sasuke's face. He found his brother's hand again in the torrent, grasped it, and pulled him closer.

No words were spoken. None were needed. They _were_ going to die here–but at least it would be together.


	19. Chapter 19

Eighteen was an evil cliffhanger, wasn't it. Because I am only _slightly_ evil, here's the next chapter early. Twenty will be delayed a bit because I have been putting off writing it for, like, months, to the extent that I wrote a whole bunch of twenty-one through twenty-three just to avoid looking at the damn thing. I HATE WRITING FIGHT SCENES WAAAAAAAAH WAAAH WAAAH WHERE'S MAH BLANKIE…

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 19 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The air around the Kazekage began to shimmer as he shot to his feet. The lines of kohl darkening his eyelashes grew thicker and deeper black, and the cloud of scintillating dust became a wave that caught up the man who'd attacked him. He was thrown against one of the pillars and pinned there by a golden spike through each wrist. The invisible ANBU bodyguards that had concealed themselves across the kage's pavilion materialized with weapons in hand as the gold dust circled back to lap at its master's feet.<p>

"You spend a month insulting _my _competence, and this is what you allow to occur in your own village?" the Hokage thundered, as he stood as well. "Who is in charge of security here?!"

"He was," the Kazekage spat. He spun a little of the gold dust around his fingers and pressed them against his injured shoulder. A long, hollow needle slid out of the wound and tinkled against the ground. "Yūra… you've served Sunagakure for twenty-five years. If you wanted to kill me, you could have a hundred times over in these last few days alone. Why now? Why would you… I trusted you with my life!"

"Your mistake," the man whispered bitterly. He wasn't even struggling; his expression held the flat resignation of someone who knew he was already dead. "We may have been teammates, but Sasori and I? We _never_ liked you. Bootlicker. Teacher's pet."

Another pair of blades whipped out of the gold curling around the Kazekage's legs. They struck Yūra in the lower chest, and the man screamed in pain. "You will tell me what you've done," the Kazekage ordered. "And why."

"You'll find out soon enough," Yūra said, after he'd recovered a little of his composure. "As to why… why do you think? I'm more afraid of Sasori than I am afraid of you. You made the grab for his hat and his daughter after Sensei disappeared, but Sasori was always better and we all knew it." The Kazekage's fingers clenched, twisting the spikes deeper into the wounds. Yūra groaned and broke off coughing, deathly pale, but summoned the energy for one final jab. He had nothing more to lose. "Karura agreed, didn't she," he whispered, his breath crackling with blood. "How else would you have found yourself with a little red-headed–"

The Kazekage snarled and snapped out a last burst of gold dust at Yūra's face. It filled the man's mouth, slicing across his tongue and spiraling down his throat. Blood began to pour down his chin. He spasmed in silent agony and went limp, and the gold dust, dyed crimson, withdrew from his mouth. The rage no longer holding him upright, the Kazekage staggered and fell against the back of the stone seat, clutching the punctured shoulder. The muscles of his arm had begun to jerk uncontrollably, the fingers curling painfully against his palm.

"What are you all gawking at?" one of the Suna ANBU agents bellowed, leaping to help his injured leader to the ground. "Get a medic up here! The Kazekage was poisoned!"

A woman in a lizard mask and her partner acknowledged the order and peeled off from the loose ring that had formed around the kages. They dashed down the wide pavilion and made for the door set in the far wall, which led down into hallways of the arena.

They didn't get far. Once they'd passed beneath the deep shadows of the archway, something black and sinuous struck out and ensnared them, one immediately after the other. There were a few brief cries of pain and the clattering of weapons that did not find their mark, and both ANBU agents were tossed back into the open, their shoulders dislocated and their legs broken.

"He's here! Sasori's here!" another one of the Kazekage's bodyguards said. "Where in the hell is our backu–"

The rest of his words were choked into silence as black particles billowed out of the doorway. It moved with the purpose of a living thing, glinting faintly in the sunlight, and rushed forward to envelop the unlucky ANBU agents closest to the exit before any could complete the jutsu they were preparing. There came the sound of screams from the boiling dust. When it rose there were four bleeding bodies slumped over on the stone, cut as if by dozens of knives.

Two gray-clad shapes ducked out of the archway, one scuttling on four human limbs bent into grotesque angles, and the other hanging in the air, its dark head bowed. Lines of blue filagree linked them to a third figure still standing in the hall. He finally strode forward, cloaked in self-assurance. A sardonic smile graced his lips.

The Kazekage attempted to struggle back to his feet, but the poisoned needle had robbed him of his balance. "This isn't _possible_. This isn't–"

Sasori flexed his fingers slightly and the white veils concealing the Kazekage's face were torn away by a chakra thread. "You haven't aged well, have you–weight of responsibility and all that. Me, on the other hand?" He chuckled softly to himself, raising the flawless countenance of a young man no more than twenty years old. "I came like this just so you could see my face for yourself. You should feel honored. Not many have, since I left this deplorable excuse for a hidden village.

"Now, since I haven't seen you since we were sixteen, there are some things I'd like to clear up. First and most obviously… _I_ killed Sensei, and when Ōnoki called you an 'ignorant, pigheaded brat' for declaring war on Iwagakure for this crime, he was completely correct. And no, I'm never going to tell you how I did it. Secondly, there is no antidote to what was in that needle. You have about ten minutes until the muscle spasms become so strong your bones start to fracture from the strain, and then perhaps another ten until you suffocate in unspeakable agony. "Thirdly…" he paused, and his heavy-lidded eyes suddenly snapped open. "Karura never betrayed you. She was never yours to begin with. She knew what you were planning to do to her, and for that she wanted Sunagakure to burn. That was the final thing she asked of me before you had her killed.

"Finally, item four. Is that lying old bag here somewhere? I plan to have a talk with my dear granny once I finish with you."

Although the poison had eroded his ability to stand, the Kazekage nevertheless launched his entire stock of gold dust at Sasori with such speed that the iron could barely block it. He was forced to leap back as the metallic particles clashed, filling the air with a thick susurration. The shade cloth anchored to the pillars began to shred, cut by the razor-fine, chakra-saturated dust. Swathes of red fabric tore loose and fluttered away on the wind.

"They're both puppets," Itachi whispered to the Hokage, under the din. "But saturated with their own chakra. I've never seen this before."

The Hokage nodded. "That thing is… was… their Sandaime," he supplied, keeping a hawk's keen watch on Sasori's movements through the murk. "The dark cloud is his Iron Sand–extremely dangerous. I'll keep him occupied while you take Sasori himself. Raidō, grab the first Suna captain you see and secure the radio announcer's box. Start getting the stadium evacuated before people start to panic–I will do my best to keep collateral damage to a minimum, but against an opponent like this it will be difficult, and I am very afraid this Sasori didn't come here alone. Genma, find Gaara's jōnin sensei–he wears a cloth covering the left side of his face–and see that he's been warned Akatsuki has probably come for the boy. Baki sits on their village council and I have found him to be far more reasonable than his Kazekage. See if you can convince him to get Gaara out of here. Itachi will give you the cover you need."

"You don't mean Orochimaru's–" Genma began, his teeth clenched hard around the senbon in his mouth.

Itachi engulfed the battlefield in an illusion that erased his true body, as well as those of the Hokage's bodyguards. "Genma, _go_," he ordered. "There are more than four thousand people in this stadium. We don't have time for this."

The two men acknowledged the command and simultaneously moved to slip unnoticed down the interior wall of the arena. Itachi left his place by the Hokage's side and began working his way stealthily to the back of the structure.

Dozens of golden marbles began to rain down on the stone, striking chips from the tile. They went bouncing back towards the Kazekage, where they melded with each other into a growing sphere. The black cloud was barely an eighth of its original size when the rain of golden drops ceased, the iron entrapped within a thick layer of gold, but the technique was his last. The spasms had rippled out from the needle's entry point, and he could no longer control his rebellious muscles. Sasori, his black coat marred with a few superficial tears, watched him convulse with amusement.

The Hokage removed the hat of his office and tossed it aside, then unfastened the sash closing his red and white robes, revealing the helm, chain armor, and black fatigues he wore underneath. He shrugged the hindrances off and advanced down the pavilion towards Sasori. "All followers of the Will of Fire take the promises to their allies very seriously. Whatever you have come to Sunagakure to accomplish, I will not allow it. There will be no more deaths today."

"Stay out of this, old man. My business is with Kohan," he snapped. He cocked his head as if listening, and a cruel smile spread across his lips. "Besides, you ought to save your strength for your _own _wayward teammate."

The Hokage drew in a sharp breath as his worst fear was confirmed. The scuttling puppet darted forward, taking advantage of the hairline crack in his focus. It raised its left forelimb and the bulky structure broke apart to unleash a barrage of senbon. Handsigns flashing, the Hokage blocked them all with a wall of sandstone drawn from the substance of the stadium. He did not reach the age of seventy by being easy to catch unawares.

While the Hokage had refocused his attention, Itachi had gotten into position behind Sasori, slipping behind the tattered tent of cloth. It was only from a distance that the illusion of his humanity held. His skin was free of the slightest scar or blemish, and without a sheen of sweat even in the searing heat of Sunagakure's summer. His scent was also inhuman, a faint mingling of cured wood, well-oiled steel, and poison. The chakra flowing around his slender body was circulating in a pattern like no living thing Itachi had even seen, all thin streams and sharp angles. But he could see a current of chakra, swirling around the chest as it should be in any living, breathing man. He _must_ be alive… and that meant he could also die.

As the Hokage's protective wall split and withdrew, saturated with senbon like an oversized pincushion, Itachi launched his own attack, a hail of kunai aimed for his Sasori's vital points, an exploding tag fluttering from each ring. A whip-like appendage, dripping with a deep violet oil, shot out of the bottom of Sasori's coat and blocked all but one of the blades. Strings of chakra flicked out from the center of his chest to snap the wires anchoring each sparking rectangle of paper. The threads surged out to toss a few of them back at his opponents' positions, but the Hokage and Itachi were already long gone.

When Itachi's feet struck stone, his ears ringing from the explosion, he realized too late that Sasori had gone out of his way to toss two of the explosive tags into the shaded VIP boxes, purely out of spite. The murmuring of the crowd lurched into cries of terror as they detonated. The roofs were thin, intended only to keep out the sunlight, and they collapsed instantly. Columns teetered and toppled. The weakened floor cracked and shifted, threatening to send the columns into the hallways below.

Sasori spun his attention back to Itachi before he could renew the genjutsu of concealment. The flexible spear darted after Itachi, blindingly fast; judging from the surprise on Sasori's face, he was probably one of the few people who had ever succeeded in evading its venomous sting. He had no doubt that traitor Yūra was speaking without embellishment of Sasori's skill. Itachi had fought puppeteers before, but _never_ one so swift and so masterful with so many chakra threads at such an unbelievable range. Until ten seconds ago, he had assumed it was impossible for a puppeteer to manipulate more than ten threads at once, one for each finger. Sasori had just proved him dangerously wrong.

He pulled out another kunai and threw as he twisted around a strike by the poison whip; the blade landed precisely in between two of the joints and smashed it into the nearest pillar, splitting the flexible spine that made up its core. He used the respite to renew the genjutsu concealing his position and prepared to layer a second atop it.

The whip withdrew under his clothing as Sasori gave up trying to skewer Itachi on the abruptly blunted end. He grasped the sole kunai that had broken through his guard and carefully removed it from his chest, unstained by blood. A few slivers of wood dropped out from the bottom of his robe. "_Well_," he commented, fingering something beneath the torn fabric. "I see why Orochimaru thought taking your body as his next vessel would be more trouble than it was wor–"

He broke off to recoil from the next illusion Itachi sent hurtling at his face. In lieu of the traditional crows he usually used in this genjutsu, the flock of screaming birds became phoenixes with tails trailing flame. Those splinters of wood and the brief shock of fear on Sasori's face told Itachi all he needed to know. The Hokage realized it as well, and raised his hands to initiate his next technique–whatever else the puppet master turned out to be, it was very likely he was _flammable_. Itachi simultaneously mirrored his mentor's signs with his nimble young fingers, inhaled deeply, and blew out a matching stream of flame. Sasori drew his two puppets high into the air and well clear of the inferno, anticipating their next move, and the last of the iron filings hovering in the air condensed into a shield around his body. It was glowing red by the time the fiery dragons had burned themselves out, but it held.

He dissolved the shield and withdrew down the pavilion, pulling his puppets up to join him. Itachi felt his mouth curl involuntarily in disgust. Although it didn't seem to pain or even trouble him, half of Sasori's face had begun to melt and sag in the intense heat, exposing an eye socket made of something that was not bone.

A bubble of chakra gathered on the rooftop behind him and burst as another figure emerged leisurely from the stone. Itachi risked a glance toward the Hokage, whose grim expression was betrayed by the faintest shuddering in his hands. Itachi knew that agony only too well, the despair at seeing a beloved student take the fists that you had helped to strengthen and raise them against you. That night years ago on the banks of the Nakano, Uchiha Shisui had looked at him just as Sarutobi Hiruzen looked at Orochimaru now. The Sandaime Hokage had guided, counseled, protected, and cared for his only genin team with no less love than he had given his own children–especially Orochimaru, an orphan, who had no one else to turn to for such kindness.

There was nothing left of that lonely little boy standing before them now.

"Why Sasori… I see you left me two–so thoughtful; much obliged," Orochimaru said, as he looked down at the semi-conscious ANBU agents that the puppeteer had discarded, crippled, against the wall. His partner dipped his head, accepting the thanks. Orochimaru extended his hand towards the Kazekage, who was convulsing uncontrollably near the stone seats. "We can dispense with the business portion of this trip once Sunagakure has been reduced to a smoking ruin–he's all yours. Really… Pain-sama can't blame us if Gaara-kun makes a mess of it. _We_ weren't the ones who let an unstable jinchūriki compete in a life-or-death battle in the middle of a heavily populated area. And even if we did sabotage all the protective measures and give him a little nudge towards the transformation… who'd live to squeal on us?"

"_Precisely_," Sasori agreed. "Being partnered with you has been the most fun I've had in years."

"Likewise," Orochimaru said with a bow.

The sphere of gold beside the Kazekage had begun to shudder, and, his mind too overrun with pain to contain the ball of compressed iron any longer, the particles again exploded over the battlefield. The Hokage and Itachi both called up their own domes of whirling water as shields, and the water went dirty gray as it absorbed and redirected the particles.

His opponents occupied with the deadly cloud, Sasori pulled a small sheet of paper from his sleeve, and from the seal sprang a round-bodied puppet on six short legs. It scurried to where the Kazekage was writhing in pain. Iron shackles coalesced around his wrists and ankles. The back of the puppet split and opened like a beetle's wings, exposing a hollow interior. Jointed wooden tendrils spooled out from where its mouth would have been and lifted his body into the small prison. The top snapped shut again and locked itself together with six metal catches anchored against the seam.

While Sasori had been collecting his prize, Orochimaru unfurled a scroll behind the screen of iron sand. The seal formula poured down the wall, flowing around the two Sunagakure ANBU agents slumped against it. Orochimaru smeared something on the scroll and went through a few handsigns. Ash and dust spread over the bodies, curling like scraps of paper, almost a cremation in reverse. "I have this in hand," he called to Sasori. "By all means, go on and have your fun."

Sasori, his puppets, and his captive disappeared down the outside wall of the arena, and the blackness cloaking the battlefield dissipated. Itachi and the Hokage let their walls of water die.

The man on the left was unmistakably the Shodai Hokage, exactly as he had been painted in the portraits hanging in the Hokage's tower, save for a muted look to his tanned skin and black hair. It took a moment for Itachi to guess the identity of the woman; she was unarmored, her plain white robes unmarked with any crest he could see, and her face and body had been ravaged by the weight of great age. But Sarutobi knew her well, it was plain. His eyes were darting from one familiar face to the other, his will to act imprisoned behind the bars of old losses and old memories.

Orochimaru dropped down from the roof and spun a kunai around in each hand. He planted them simultaneously in the backs of the living corpses' necks, and as the tag tied to each was absorbed by the substance of their flesh, color and vigor rushed into their inert forms. There was no mistaking it–this was Edo Tensei, the darkest of darkest of kinjutsu, something Itachi had only read about in oblique references in old histories. The Niidaime's original research had disappeared years ago–including how to stop it.

"Hokage-sama!" Itachi barked. "We have lives to protect here!"

Hearing Itachi's voice, Sarutobi tore the roots of his paralysis free and renewed determination appeared in the old man's eyes. He whipped around as Orochimaru sank again into the stone and reappeared at the lip of the drop. "I would have enjoyed seeing the look on your face when you saw your own dear teacher, Sarutobi-sensei, but alas; the Military Police started skulking around and my agents couldn't get back inside the cemetery before the last stage of the exams were to begin," Orochimaru said, shrugging. "She'll have to do."

He raised his right hand in a gesture of concentration, and from far below came a surge of chakra and a sensation of breathtaking dread–that of chain links shearing, prison bars twisting, dam walls crumbling. A pall of malice rose from the arena floor. It was the same as the one Itachi had felt once as a boy, on a cool autumn night relaxing on the porch of his family home, a terror that had set his baby brother to wailing so hard he couldn't breathe.

Orochimaru dusted off his hands and nodded mockingly at the Sandaime. "Even _I _wouldn't want to be skulking around here when the Ichibi squirms loose of its cut-rate seal, so if you'll excuse me–" He broke off as a small, dark-haired shape leaped from the observation deck into the surging sand, and Orochimaru shook his head. "Honestly, why do you all have to be heroes? If Sasuke-kun get that lovely body of his ground to jelly I am going to be _very_ unhappy."

Nothing had risen from the cloud of sand, and the living corpses were readying to strike but as of yet had not. He had a little time. _Sasuke_ had a little time. Deep below the concern for his brothers, Itachi felt a swell of pride at Sasuke's extraordinary courage–there were battle-tested jōnin who would have balked at diving down there. He had the chance to end this, no matter the toll to himself. Itachi brought his hands together and called forth the Mangekyō. "Amaterasu," he whispered. Fresh agony struck his right eye, and he pressed the heel of his hand against the hollow, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Orochimaru screamed and staggered as his cloak blossomed with black fire. The burn of Amaterasu was slow but inexorable, and there was no escape once the flames touched flesh. "Kill them both!" he screamed at the still figures. "Kill them!" He fell to his knees, clawing at the cloak.

The sensibility drained from Orochimaru's face as it went slack… but it was not in death but in _rebirth_. Cloth and skin tore as his back split open and something white squirmed out, a hand; he wriggled out of the burning husk of his own body, shining with slime. Swaying on his feet, he coughed wetly and took one more step back. "You are as much of a pain as Minato," he complained hoarsely. "I'll enjoying killing you wearing your brother's face."

While he spoke, the Shodai had dashed forward and was intercepted by Sarutobi, his ambivalence about fighting his old mentor burned away by the instinct to defend a weakened comrade. Adrenaline brought new speed and new strength into withered muscles. Even in the twilight of his life, he could still match the resurrected Shodai blow for blow.

"You all right?" he called to Itachi, after the Shodai struck a far pillar and fell to the ground, armor clattering.

Itachi steeled himself against the pain in his eye and dropped his hand, ready to take on the next volley. "Mm, but Sasuke and Naruto–"

The woman attacked next, chains of pure chakra erupting from her wrists. Again she went for Itachi first. He threw himself aside… but the course of the attack did not change. The chains wrapped instead around _Orochimaru's _arm as he prepared to leap down to the arena floor. The black sketching of fuinjutsu wormed speedily down the links, striking his forearm and sticking there like tar. His eyes wide, Orochimaru tugged at it, to no avail.

The decrepit old woman let out a bark of laughter. What had looked at first like liver spots in the center of her forehead had been a diamond-shaped seal, and from it a pattern of vines grew across her pale skin. The age lines marring her face filled in, her back unbent. Her eyes, for a few moments a honey brown, had become the same fierce red as her hair. Her nails became claws; her canines elongated into fangs.

The self-satisfied smirk on Orochimaru's face cracked and broke. "Mito?" he mouthed.

"You ought to have known better than to bind a daughter of Uzushiogakure in a summoning," she said, in a voice now deepened and flush with youth. "But pride was always your great fault, wasn't it. Perhaps Tobirama never recorded it in the notes you stole–perhaps he did not even know–but Edo Tensei _does_ have its weaknesses." The luminous chains tightened their grip. "Chief among is which what I see you have just realized: after a soul is summoned back to this impure world, the contract binding it to the will of its summoner can be broken by one sufficiently skilled in fuinjutsu."

Whatever he had intended, this was not it. There was real panic on his face now. He redoubled his effort to free himself and the skin of his forearm tore. With a grunt he pulled it free of the chains and left the shed skin of his hand behind. His mouth curled in unease as he realized the flesh beneath it remained marked with the bruises of her seal. He sank into the polished tiles one final time and did not reappear.

"Coward!" Mito screamed toward the empty space. "You brought me here, and now you're too frightened to face me?"

Instead of an answer, the stones beneath their feet began to shiver and crack, and saplings burst from between the seams. Within seconds the forest had grown so thick Itachi could no longer see past the dropoff before him. He twisted and spun around the grasping branches until he won himself enough space to launch a stream of fire at the crowding trunks, desperate to reach Sasuke. The wood grew over his head in an impenetrable dome, throwing the pavilion into darkness. He tried the gyōkakyū again, forcing such an intense concentration of chakra out the flame burned white, but the wall of leaves and bark renewed itself as fast as the katon could consume it–he wasn't getting out that easily.

The Sandaime was not quite so agile as his youngest protégé and been caught in the newborn forest, bonds of wood curling around his wrists and ankles. Mito, in the meantime, had not bothered in the slightest with agility. The link to her bijū's chakra persisted even beyond death, and she had wrapped herself in its cloak and the first of its tails to splinter the heavy branches with brute force. The Shodai's keen tactical sense had been deadened by Orochimaru's need to keep his mind restrained, and he attacked like an automaton, ignoring Mito to concentrate his emotionless assault on his former student. He did not even look to her as she charged him to swipe with a claw of chakra. It bisected his body and tossed the pieces wide. It would buy them only a little time–the infernal leaves of ash began swarming back to restore his torso almost immediately.

"Hiruzen–who is that Uchiha?" she called, looking with deep suspicion at the bloody tears Itachi hastily wiped from his eye as he joined her on the ground.

Sarutobi finished extracting himself from the restraints and joined them on the ground. "Itachi will be succeeding me as Godaime," he explained. "He gained those eyes on a mission I sanctioned, and his loyalty to Konoha and its people is beyond question."

"If you say so," she said, not wholly convinced. "There are jinchūriki here, I can feel it. Who are they?"

"The Ichibi's, and my youngest brother, the current Kyūbi jinchūriki," Itachi answered.

"_Brother_?" Mito repeated. "Then Kushina-chan…"

"Adoptive brother," Itachi clarified. "Naruto was her only child."

"Leave Hashirama to me," she ordered. "I'll release him from the binding contract like I did my own; we'll help you contain the bijū as soon as we can. If you were named Candidate Hokage, you have enough skill with your sharingan to hold the beast at bay for a little while, at least?"

Itachi nodded, hoping it was true.

"I am going to find Orochimaru," the Sandaime said quietly. "If he has knowledge of Edo Tensei, he is more dangerous than I had ever dreamed." He looked to Itachi. "I have put this off for far too long, and I will not have you, Sasuke-kun, or anyone else continue to pay the price for my foolish pity." Using the same doton jutsu Orochimaru had, he sank into the rock in pursuit of former student.

Itachi called the blades back into his irises before Mito interrupted him, slapping aside a rush of branches with her chakra cloak. "Save your strength, boy–you'll need it. I can break through the trees for you," she said, as she wrung even more of the Kyūbi's chakra out into the air and dropped to her palms. A second tail joined the first, and they elongated and thickened, snaking out behind her. With a cry she launched herself at the spot where the forest seemed thinnest. The blow toppled the trees and the strength of the chakra cauterized the stumps. Itachi broke through the opening just as it wove closed again behind him.

The stadium was in chaos. Part of the roof had already collapsed over the VIP boxes thanks to Sasori's maneuver with his exploding tags, and now the whole arena was quaking. Even more of the roofs were collapsing as the rock shifted. People were crushed against the stairwells and the back walls, desperate to escape. He could barely see into the cloud of sand, but a massive shape was undeniably moving below. A gust of wind swept away a swathe of it, and the face revealed behind the grains grinned a toothy grin.

Its hand fell to crush something below–something that could only be Naruto and Sasuke. His heart vaulted into his throat. It was too far to whisk them to safety with the shunshin, and too far to shield them with Susanō's arm.

He was too late.

-ooo-

Naruto and Sasuke both cowered in the shadow of the Ichibi's palm, helpless in the face of such power. The sand flowing over the rubble in which they'd taken their meager shelter tore at their skin and clothes. Sasuke's muscles burned with the strain of keeping himself and Naruto anchored against the current. The sharp edge of the boulder had cut into his fingers until they bled, but he dared not release it.

It had been beyond useless this time, that instinct to defend his younger brother. Somehow, he still didn't regret it.

"Naruto, for everything, I'm so–" Sasuke began, struggling to raise his voice above the hissing sand.

"Apology accepted," he said hastily.

The shadow about them shrank and sharpened as the hand dropped. But then, instead of darkness, there was light–blinding light.

Sasuke opened his eyes to a slit to see what had come to their rescue. Barely visible between the bones of a massive ribcage was a figure in a Konoha flak jacket. Ropes of flesh whipped out of the mechanical joints, then skin, covered in downy feathers, and then finally the plates of a samurai's armor. It heaved the Ichibi's arm aside, and they were scooped up from the ground, sand and all, which drained out from between the cracks in its fingers. Fully armored, the warrior was snowy white, tinged with blue at the fingertips and the points of the stylized wings that curved gracefully from its helm. A cloak of feathers was tossed carelessly about its neck. Its face was also avian, the nose and mouth a hooked hawk's beak and the rest of its visible skin marred by layers of terrible scars.

"How are we not…" Sasuke whispered, as the hands cradled them closer to the warrior's chest. Grasping its thumb for support, he leaned forward to peer out from between its fingers. He could just make out a streak of white in their rescuer's dark hair. "_Ka-san_!?" he mouthed.

The Ichibi growled and opened its mouth wide. Mikoto's sharingan could discern the enormous gathering of chakra in its barrel chest, and a pair of wings unfurled from beneath the cloak. Its taloned feet emerged from the ground and a mighty downstroke sent them all skyward. The explosion of air blew apart the wall behind them, continued through the falling rubble, and struck the rock that made up the surrounding cliffs. Huge pieces split along the fault lines and crashed into the streets below, crushing the apartment blocks and the festival stalls that had sprouted in the streets around the stadium.

The chakra construct could only glide, not truly fly, and it found the earth again on the plateau that cradled Sunagakure.

Mikoto dropped her children into the folds of the feather cloak. "There's nowhere safe for you two to hide," she called, suspended inside the transparent skull. "Hold on and _do not let go_."

Sasuke dug his finger into the strange material, malleable yet impossible to mar. It was warm to the touch and prickled with power against his skin. He and Naruto both solidified their footing on its jutting collarbones.

"Are you going to be able to hold on?" Sasuke asked Naruto.

"I feel better," he assured Sasuke. "Not better enough to summon anything big without going foxified, but better enough I don't think I'm going to pass out again. Sorry, Ka-chan."

"Don't apologize," she said. "You didn't let the Kyūbi free. That was your duty and you fulfilled it beautifully. Protecting my children is mine." Satisfied they could hold themselves fast, Mikoto turned her eyes back to the city.

"Ka-san, what… what is this _thing_?" Sasuke asked. He had caught barely a glimpse of it, but something about his mother's sharingan had been _wrong_. He could have sworn the color had been reversed to red on black.

"It's called Susanō," she replied curtly. "The Ichibi is coming. I'll explain later."

The demon used the cliffs as a stepping stone and levered itself on to the plateau. It had grown even larger and now towered over the body of the white warrior. It heaved its bulk forward, the tail lashing. "Thinks eight more tails makes him _better_ than me? We'll see. We'll see!" it bellowed, the voice bubbling with hysterical laughter. "Boy, I'll tear you into so many pieces it'll take that damn fox a hundred years to put himself back togeth–"

The demon choked as a blade of fire erupted from its chest. The sword seemed to drink in the sand around the wound, and it was wrenched backward, shrinking visibly before their eyes. It yowled in pain and annoyance as it struggled to free itself. Mikoto used the reprieve to draw her own weapon. The warrior knelt and struck the ground with a loose fist, and from the portal that opened in the sand it drew the shaft of a naginata. The serrated blade of the polearm was deep black and smoking, and left a trail of darkness in the air as Mikoto whipped it into position.

With a cry of triumph and one last, great wrench, the bijū tore itself free of the flame that had impaled it.

Behind the flailing Ichibi was a second warrior, this one brick red and enclosing another figure in Konoha green. Its cloak seemed to be made of fire itself, and its face was hidden inside a mask in the shape of a snarling tengu. Like Mikoto's, it also possessed six limbs, with the elbows splitting into two pairs of hands. Sand sprayed from the gourd clutched in the warrior's third hand, a river of it, and flowed back to the Ichibi's body to repair the damage the sword had done.

"It's too big! I can't even partially seal it!" Itachi cried.

With renewed vigor, the Ichibi bounded forward on all fours. Mikoto sent her warrior's spear spinning in its hands and parted the Ichibi's left arm at the wrist as it swiped at Naruto. The stump was left smoldering with the same black fire that wicked from the blade. The sand glowed red hot and began to liquefy, dripping molten glass. It backed away and pumped more sand into its damaged wrist, cackling. The portions infected by the black fire dropped off to continue sullenly burning on the ground below, and a new paw took its place. "Not good enough!" it cried. "Not good enough!"

It loosed another cannon of wind that shattered the rock formations peppering the plain. Again Mikoto was too fast to let it hit. She spread the wings again and landed next to Itachi's Susanō. The bijū spun and dug its claws into the rock to call forth the desert itself as its next weapon. Spikes of sandstone as wide as a man was tall shot out to impale them; it was Gaara's suna shigure on a colossal scale. Itachi quickly put himself between the barrage and his family; he raised the shield and sank the warrior's feet into the ground so it could not be toppled by the onslaught.

"Where the hell is the Kazekage and his bodyguards?!" Mikoto screamed. "We can't beat this thing back ourselves!"

"Probably dead," Itachi called back. "Other help is on the way."

"_Other help_? What do you mean other–"

Her question was answered by a streak of lightning that bounded over the lip of the cliff. Naruto gasped as he recognized his own burnt-orange chakra cloak wrapped around another's body, a tall woman with red hair streaming behind her. She skidded to a stop behind the Ichibi, and golden chains erupted from her chest to entangle the bijū's ankles. The rain of spikes slackened and went dead as it suddenly found itself fighting for equilibrium. The Ichibi strained against the chains. The links started to warp and snap, but before it could break free entirely, great trees sprouted from the parched ground to twine around its body. It was lifted into the air and tossed on to its back as a ring of spiked posts erupted from the ground.

"_You_!" it shrieked at the second figure to crest the cliff. "Cheater! Not fair! You're dead! Not _fair_!"

The man raised his hand and a stream of chakra struck the Ichibi in the forehead. Its back arched and the tree trunks began to splinter, but even as its struggling grew wilder its body began to crumble. The fingertips deteriorated first, and the rot ate inward, dissolving its arms and legs until it was bleeding sand from a dozen cracks in its massive body. It protests grew more and more shrill until it finally burst in an explosion of dust, leaving behind an inert pile of sand… and Gaara.

Naruto dropped off the shoulder of Mikoto's Susanō before Sasuke could stop him. His limbs still felt like they were made of lead, and his ears echoed faintly with the Kyūbi's cries of frustration, but he needed to know that Gaara was all right.

"What are you doing? He almost killed you!" Sasuke cried, bounding down to chase after the distraught Naruto.

The spiked posts shuddered back into the earth as Naruto reached the settling mound of sand and the two people standing beside it. A slender branch sprouted from the top of the pile and gently extracted Gaara.

"Don't hurt him, please!" he said, as the branch laid Gaara down on his side. "His seal was sabotaged. It almost got me too. This wasn't his fault!

The woman moved to stop him, but he pushed her hands aside and sank down next to Gaara. The other boy groaned when he felt Naruto's hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes. "You're all right?" he asked weakly.

"Fine," Naruto answered, helping him sit up.

Gaara turned his head to look out over the broken ring and the scattered rubble that was formerly the Sunagakure arena. "_They_ aren't," he whispered. "You friends were in there." He was shivering despite the soaring temperatures. "I made only two promises to you and already I've broken one."

"Gaara, I just said this wasn't your fault! They're smart and they're strong, I'm sure my friends are..."

Sasuke jogged up and stopped when he saw Gaara was too weak to adequately fend off an overenthusiastic puppy, never mind present any sort of threat to Naruto. The man in red armor turned to look at him curiously, his eyes lingering especially long on his sharingan and dusty black hair. He wore no hitai-ate, but Sasuke forgot to breathe for a moment as he realized where he'd seen the face before. The sculptor of the first visage to adorn the Hokage's Monument had carved an excellent likeness.

"Mito… is it me, or is this child's resemblance to Madara frankly uncanny? He had no heirs, yet that is what I must assume is standing in front of me now," he said.

His voice and expression had a mildness for which Sasuke was very thankful. Senju Hashirama was said to have been a man of rare wisdom and even rarer mercy. If he had not been so reluctant to carry a grudge against his old rival, Sasuke knew he would have died where he stood.

"No, Shodai-sama, Madara had no heirs," Mikoto confirmed, as she and Itachi joined the scattering of people around Gaara. Her voice was rough with pain and she was leaning heavily against Itachi, who looked far from well himself. "But he did manage to get a pretty young whore pregnant before he died. His blood was too poor for the Uchiha to openly acknowledge him for what he was, but that child was my grandfather. My name is Uchiha Mikoto. I am Clan Head; Sasuke is my second son."

"You're hurt!" Sasuke said, jogging to take her other arm. "Your eyes are bleeding!"

"I'll be all right," she assured him. "Feeling my age, that's all. I forget every time exactly how much that jutsu hurts."

"Wait, y-you're really the…" Naruto stuttered, pushing himself shakily to his feet. "But you're supposed to be, like… dead. Super dead. I've-helped-scrub-down-your-gravestone dead. N-no offense, but this is creepy and wrong and don't eat my brains please. Sir."

Mito started to chuckle behind the sleeve of her kimono, and her husband also smiled. "I can hardly disagree–the dead ought to stay that way," the Shodai said. "You can stop eyeing me like that; I have no intention of harming you. What is your name?"

"Uchiha Naruto," he murmured. He looked at Mito and her flowing red hair with a stab of guilt. It was exactly the same shade as his mother's, and their faces were similar too, with full cheeks and delicate pointed chins. An explanation–he wasn't really sure to who–began tumbling out. "I mean, I was actually born _Uzumaki_ Naruto, but my parents died when I was only a day old. I was so alone for so long that when the Uchiha adopted me, I wanted to be part of the clan so much–_really_ part of it, in every way I possibly could–I decided to change my name. It wasn't until I got older that I started wondering whether I'd done the right thing. By that time…" He looked to Mikoto, Itachi, and Sasuke, their faces so unlike his own. "You'd all done so much to make me feel like part of your family that I didn't want to seem ungrateful. And I'm not! Sasuke, you… you almost–"

"Naruto-kun, it's all right," Mito said gently. "You don't have to justify yourself to me. I'm not angry with you. It seems a great deal has changed in Konoha, among the Uchiha especially, since I went to join my husband?"

"Every Uchiha that lives today is as loyal to Konoha as the Senju branches," Itachi explained. "Madara survived the battle at the Valley of the End and returned decades later, to attempt to destroy Konoha from the inside by inciting a civil war. He died by his own kinjutsu, and all that is left of him is ashes. I saw to it myself. The rebellion he attempted to goad the Uchiha into failed and the traitors were executed."

"And for this Hiruzen chose you to succeed him?" the Shodai asked.

"Yes," Itachi replied, his voice quiet and humble. "I've never wanted power, but power chose me. For Konoha's sake I could not refuse."

"No?" he said, pleasantly surprised at Itachi's choice of words. "Then what is it that you want, Uchiha Itachi?"

Itachi's gaze fell to Sasuke, dusty and bruised. "Peace, sir," he said. "I wanted my younger brothers–and all the children of Konoha–to grow old without ever having to see the things that I have seen."

The Shodai smiled, bowing his head. "You've done what I could not–a truly united Konoha was something I forever regretted failing to achieve in my lifetime." The substance of his body began to drain of color and drift away like falling leaves. "You have my deepest thanks, as well as my blessing to take on the mantle of Hokage."

As they watched, his flesh and armor were swept away by a gust of the hot wind. The broken body of a Suna ANBU agent slumped to the ground where he had stood.

"Mito-sama, did you…?" Itachi asked, as he knelt to perfunctorily check the man's pulse. He was already dead, as Itachi had feared.

"I did nothing," she said contemplatively. "His spirit returned on its own. I think there is a great deal yet about Edo Tensei that we do not know. I ought to join him soon, but first, Naruto-kun, come closer. Let me see you."

He left Gaara sitting cross-legged in the sand and trotted over to her. She reached out to stroke the tufts of hair peeking around his hitai-ate. "Pity you got your father's hair, sticking out all over the place. Your mother's was so lovely." When Naruto's face fell, Mito laughed. "I was only teasing. I can see Kushina in your face. You're a handsome young man. The hair suits you."

"You knew Kushina?" he asked.

"For a brief time, before I set the burden of the Kyūbi on her and passed to the next world. She was a sweet child, if a bit of a scrapper when backed into a corner. Nor can I say I am surprised she elected to name you after a ramen topping. The amount of that stuff she could pack away had to be seen to be believed."

"I've… always wanted to ask," Naruto began. "Did they spit at you, too? How did you stand it for so long, knowing you'd have to struggle to hold a demon back your whole life? Whenever you met the Kyūbi inside your head, did you… were you…?"

"Tempted?" she finished for him. "Of course I was. I was a stranger in a strange place with strange powers that I hadn't yet learned to fully control. When I came to Fire Country to marry, I had no family, no friends, and I missed the sight of the sea. But as my new family grew, I realized I was rooting in my new home, like the cutting of a jasmine plant. Even so, the notion that I might fail them was forever at the back of my mind. That fear never completely went away, not until I breathed my last."

"It doesn't?" Naruto asked, crestfallen.

Mito shook her head. "To be a jinchūriki can be a very lonely, very dangerous path to walk. You know this… as does, I suspect, that young man over there," she said, glancing at Gaara. "Fear and pain are always nearby, but that doesn't mean you won't find happiness as well. It's in those people to whom you can bare your heart and know that they will not look away. If you've found your anchor in the Uchiha, I don't–I couldn't–begrudge you the decision to give them your allegiance.

"But whether you have changed your name or not, and whether you have our red hair or not, you were born an Uzumaki. There are precious few of those children left now. You may even be one of the last, so I would like to give you a gift. At least one good thing might come of Orochimaru's transgressions." Mito snapped a kunai into her hand from a mechanism hidden within her billowing sleeves. "This ought to have been your mother's task when you came of age, but… please hold out your hand."

Naruto did as she requested. She split her finger in the knife and traced the seal on his palm before the wound could close. The design was simplicity itself, a single stroke. She followed it with a chain of handsigns, slowly, so Naruto could follow the motion of her fingers. The seal lit up briefly, then faded as the blood sank into his skin. "The crimson whirlpool, drawn in Uzumaki blood on an Uzumaki child. It will allow you into the great libraries of Uzushiogakure, if any of them still stand. I do not know how much survives, but I laid the seals on those scrolls myself, and the last time I was well enough to travel home they were holding fast." She lifted his chin to look into his eyes. "Do not let our clan die. When you have children of your own, draw that sign on their right hands when they reach their sixteenth birthday. Give them all the knowledge I have given you."

"Um, think you could do that again? I didn't catch the last few–" Naruto mumbled.

"I did," Sasuke volunteered. "We won't let him forget, Mito-sama."

Mito took a step back, her time in the world spent. Her youth and beauty unravelled, and she became the bent old woman once more.

"What the… you're a prune!" Naruto exclaimed.

"You had better hope _you_ look as good at a hundred and twenty," she said in a trembling voice, as the leaves of the jutsu floated away. "Goodbye, Naruto."


	20. Chapter 20

So, guys. I am now Tumbling: digital-tart . tumblr . com . I will probably talk about Naruto a lot. And Legend of Korra, because that is the other cartoon I have a girlboner for. I first started fan blogging when it was called LIVEJOURNAL and Jesus I feel old, so please bear with me while I get 'hip' to your 'lingo'. Why, back in my day we spelled 'feels' with an ING!

And yes, I did just find my first white hair this week. Why do you ask?

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 20 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The sheer cliffs that had encircled Sunagakure were whole no longer. The Ichibi's attacks had gouged massive pieces from the walls, leaving a treacherously unstable heap of boulders as the closest way back into the village. Above the sheltered hollow, the wind had begun to pick up speed, stinging their exposed skin with particulate. A looming bank of dust was just visible on the horizon, bearing down on them like a stampede of wild horses. Even Gaara, master of the sands, looked to the distant cloud with unease. Those who lived their lives at the whims of the desert learned quickly to respect the violence of its temper… even jinchūriki.<p>

Gaara steadied the path as best he could, but it was still difficult going. He was weak and dizzy from the aftershocks of the transformation. Itachi motioned them to follow when he did not sense anyone but frightened civilians cowering behind their doors. Naruto supported Gaara as they made their way down the comparatively safe route Itachi had negotiated across the rocks, with Sasuke and Mikoto taking up the rear.

Gaara was pale and panting when they reached the bottom. Naruto let his arm slide free and he folded up on a nearby boulder, his head bent with shame at the destruction he'd been helpless to prevent.

The echoes of the wracking pain caused by using Susanō had mostly faded from Mikoto's limbs, and she negotiated the last few meters without Sasuke's help. Last down, he tested the final foothold with his toes and shifted his weight on to the flat stone. Something gave with a crunch and his support tipped, throwing him violently forward. His well-trained reflexes salvaged a decent landing out of the mishap, and it hadn't been terribly far to fall, but Itachi still darted forward help him pick himself up from the tumble.

"Sasuke?" he said tentatively, making a show of assisting his younger brother in removing the latest coating of dust from his clothes and hair. "I saw you take that jump over the balcony railing, to help Naruto to safety."

Sasuke coughed once as the dust he'd dislodged settled to the ground. He broke from patting his sleeves down, poised with expectation.

"That was one of the bravest things I have ever seen," Itachi continued. "Confronted with the same situation, there are grown men–jōnin, even–who wouldn't have mustered the courage to choose as you did."

"Nii-san, before it's too late, there's something I wanted to tell you, too," he started. His hands found their way into his pockets and his fingers twined around the loose threads. "I shouldn't have… said what I did about Shisui, before we left for Suna. You were only trying to help me, and I know you still miss him–a lot–so it was..."

Itachi raised a hand, forestalling the rest of the apology. "Thank you, but I'll have to ask you explain yourself later. Until I have burnt his body to ash myself, we must assume Orochimaru is still out there and still after you. Mito may have frightened him away for a short time, but he will not give up so easily."

"Then what now? Do we go find Sakura and the others?" Naruto asked, taking a few steps forward to stand side by side with Sasuke. His face crumpled in dismay. The fūton the bijū had unleashed had reduced everything between itself and the cliff walls to rubble, and he could see straight through the gap in the arena wall. The genin's observation platform had been directly below the VIP box. The balcony had been partially torn away and the hollow area had collapsed under the weight of a fallen pillar.

He then added, a little too jocular, "And could you stop it with the 'too late' business, Sasuke? That creeper isn't going to get you even if I have to fox-punch his face inside out."

Gaara cringed at the remark, drawing the fabric of his sleeves tighter into his fingers. Naruto had his back to the redhead and didn't notice.

"What's wrong with you? That isn't funny," Sasuke said reproachfully.

"Quiet," Mikoto commanded. "There's someone coming… more than one. Shinobi."

"Hostile?" Itachi asked in an undertone, while his mother scanned the distance, eyes shut.

Her brows relaxed and she lifted her eyelids. "No… and I think one of them is _Sakura_."

A few moments later, two men leading a small group of genin over the rooftops came into view, one in a green flak jacket and the other in tan. Naruto and Sasuke shared simultaneous exhalations of relief when Sakura's pink head did indeed appear behind them, along with Temari, Kankuro, and Hinata.

"Found Baki for you, sir," Genma called down. "Everyone in one piece?"

"For the moment," Itachi answered.

The group descended one by one to street level to speak without having to shout. Genma chewed a little on the senbon ever-present in his mouth. "That's… uh, really nothing short of miraculous, considering you just went toe-to-toe with a bijū."

Sakura shouldered her way past him to envelop both of her teammates in a desperately tight embrace. "I know this breaks the no-group-hugs rule, but… Sasuke, you were amazing; Naruto, you too. Hinata saw everything–that strange chakra woven in Gaara's sash, your seal rattling itself apart–and you still didn't give in, not even to save yourself." She let them both go and scrubbed away the dampness gathering at the corners of her eyes. "So, um…" she began awkwardly. "Does this mean we're okay now? You and Sasuke, and Sensei and–"

"Mm-hm," Sasuke said, nodding. "And I'm sorry for leaving you behind in the desert maze, while I'm…" he cleared his throat, his eyes on his toes, "…laying out all the dumb things I've done in the last month."

While they were talking, Baki had taken a seat on the same stone Gaara had chosen, and initiated a very quiet and mostly one-sided conversation with his youngest student. Some of the misery bowing Gaara's head had eased at seeing his siblings and Hinata alive. Satisfied with the boy's answers, monosyllabic though they had been, Baki rose again and pulled Gaara up with him.

"Baki-san, I need you to listen to me very carefully," Itachi said. "I do not know what the Akatsuki wants with the Ichibi, but I cannot imagine it will do either of our villages any good. Bringing him to safety–"

"No convincing needs to be done. I agree with you," he said hastily, over the warning. The cloth obscuring his face was puffed upward by the strength of the rising wind. Beneath it, his skin was revealed to be striated with a massive burn scar. It had permanently sealed his left eye, but with the right he looked down at Gaara with something approaching tenderness. "Before she died, his mother entrusted her teammates with the safety of her children. I'm the last one left, and if I failed Karura now I don't think she would ever forgive me.

"Unfortunately… 'safety' from Sasori of the Red Sand isn't something I can promise, at least not by myself. He and I were schoolmates, a very long time ago. I could never best him when we sparred back then, and I doubt that has changed. It's unlikely anyone living in this village _can_, with the Kazekage probably dead, and that man is impossible to overwhelm with force of numbers–there are rumors he can control so many puppets he could hold off a small army."

Temari winced at the frank mention of her father's passing, but squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed back her grief. "Sensei… if you can't protect him, then what do we do?"

"The Gokyōdai are our only chance… Sasori's grandmother and granduncle. We respect their power as you do your Sannin," he explained for the benefit of the Konoha shinobi. "Chiyo-sama was head of the Puppet Corps for two decades, and her younger brother Ebizo is a master of the cloth binding techniques. Unlike most other fighting disciplines, the power of those two styles only grows with age. They live in seclusion a few hours outside the village… but with that sandstorm I'm not sure we'd make it in time."

"Orochimaru is a traitor. He cares only for himself and the furthering of his own goals, no matter what he might outwardly profess his allegiances to be. It was this way when he served Konoha, and I suspect it is the same now that he has joined the Akatsuki," Itachi said, his head bent in thought. "Given the choice between achieving their objectives and his, he will choose his, which means separating Sasuke and Gaara would be to our advantage. Sasori would have to go after him alone to fulfill their mission, and _I _do not intend to allow his partner out of this village alive."

"But those two old bats never help!" Kankurō objected. "I walked all the way to their house to beg Chiyo-baasama to help me train for the tournament, and all she gave me was half a glass of lukewarm tea and the granny stink-eye."

"If her grandson is involved, she won't turn us down," Baki said with conviction.

"I-I'll go with them," Hinata volunteered, her voice wobbling on the unsteady platform of her newfound courage. "If we can't defeat Sasori, we… we don't risk fighting him at all. Gaara-kun's chances of making it safely to the Gokyōdai are ten times better with a byakugan user guiding him. A sandstorm won't be able to stop me. He saved my life once. I-If I can help him now, I owe it to him to try."

Itachi's eyebrows arched slightly, the most open expression of astonishment he was willing to display. He turned to Hinata as she wrung her hands against her stomach in apprehension. "While that is true, you are a daughter of the Main House of the Hyūga," he reminded to her. "Do you fully understand what is likely to happen to you if you are found and captured by Akatsuki?"

Hinata's chin dipped, her cheeks blanching even further toward the shade of her eyes. "Yes," she whispered, almost inaudible. "T-that's why I have to do everything I can to be s-sure we're not found."

"Hinata… this is the kind of initiative I would expect from a chūnin," Itachi said, with a very faint, sad smile. "Until the storm passes and the threat to Gaara is neutralized, and an escort can be gathered to accompany you back to Konoha, I'd like you to remain with Baki-san and his team. Good luck."

Naruto left his teammates' sides and went to stand before Gaara. "This isn't goodbye, because I suck at those. I just need one thing from you," he said and then stuck out his hand. "While she's looking out for you, I need you to look out for her. Shake on it."

"I'll protect her," Gaara said, clasping his hand in return. "I…" he swallowed, "…promise."

"So will I," Baki said, inclining his head toward Hinata. "I know you were among the genin who defeated my team in Training Ground Forty-Four. You showed them mercy then, and now you're risking your life for one of us without even being asked. If we had come to Konoha for help when Gaara's seal first began to decay… we may have lost some of our pride, but far, _far _fewer lives. I can't speak for the full advisory council, but thank you, for what you've done for my village. All of you." He motioned to the rest of his genin. "Temari, Kankurō, let's move out. We have a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time. Hinata-san, there's a hidden stair cut into the south wall. Are we clear to scale it and proceed from there?"

The blood vessels in Hinata's temples dilated as she activated her dōjutsu. After thoroughly scanning the area, she said, "W-We're clear."

As they moved to leave, Kankurō raised his hand, first two fingers split, and pointed them at Hinata as he paced backward down the avenue. "Hey, Creepy Eyes Girl. There'd better be a brand-spanking-new flak jacket waiting for you when you get home. I think you deserve it."

-ooo-

"Please tell me your freak-show bodyguards have Sasuke and are speeding away as we speak?" Sasori asked the empty room. "You know much I dislike being kept waiting."

The two ratlike puppets he'd set on watch scampered across the piles of construction material. The pair had the flesh a long-since-deceased sensor from Kumo embedded in their ragged bodies, and, their task complete, they nestled themselves in the scroll unfurled at his feet and disappeared. He rolled it shut and picked his way over the crowded floor of the warehouse as the interior door opened.

Orochimaru took a single step over the threshold and fell against the frame, dislodging a collection of pipes that had been propped against the wall. Chakra threads emerged from Sasori's hands to catch the metal and lower it silently to the ground before the clatter could reveal their position. "You're wounded–and for that to stick takes _real_ skill. Who did this? Sarutobi?" he asked, easing his partner to the ground and kicking the door closed behind him.

Orochimaru shook his head. He turned over his right arm, palm up, to probe the burn marks on his wrist like the imprint of red-hot chains. He traced the veins halfway up his forearm with a frown, which were no longer shades of blue and violet but a dark, sickly gray. "What a brilliant seal… blood-borne, self-replicating, and probably impossible to purge. This would be a fascinating subject of study if the body infected by it belonged to anyone other than me."

"Agreed. Now mind enlightening me on how it ended up in your arteries?" Sasori asked.

"That unstoppable jutsu I mentioned… isn't, I am rather ashamed to say," Orochimaru admitted. He split the first finger of his left hand with his teeth and used the blood to draw four parallel lines on his injured arm, just at the point the tissue turned healthy blue, and went through an involved chain of handsigns. "That ought to hold for now. Sasuke had to play the hero and dove into the arena to save Naruto from the Ichibi, and then Uzumaki Mito broke the compulsion seal and turned on me. I couldn't risk getting close enough to take him. Someone from Konoha went in after them–the brother or the mother, I wasn't sure."

Sasori's expression soured dangerously. "You botched this job. Again. You need a new vessel, and very, very soon–I understand that perfectly well. But if your desire to make it Sasuke puts _my _neck on the–"

"Oh come, Sasori, being beheaded doesn't bother you in the least, and you should take more care with your metaphors," he quipped.

"I don't find our situation particularly funny," Sasori said in a low voice. "We decided Naruto knows too much about what you've been scheming to be left alive, and we _needed _his death to look like an unfortunate but unpreventable accident. Pain-sama won't stop until he has all the jinchūriki under his control, and there is something about that boy himself, not only the Kyūbi inside him, that I think he wants. A few detours from our leader's orders are one thing, but I am not going to take the chance of outright crossing that man. You say he's changed since you joined Akatsuki? Makes me wonder how tyrannically delusional he was _before _the masked man disappeared."

"I told you–he thought he was a living god," Orochimaru mentioned offhandedly. "You are incredibly lucky to have missed that phase of our little group."

"He's given you more leeway than the others because he needs an allied village for when we finally move on Konoha, but Otogakure isn't a bargaining chip valuable enough to protect us if he thinks you've murdered that boy."

"The situation isn't unsalvageable yet. Thanks to you, Sunagakure is leaderless and in total chaos," Orochimaru said, rising with effort. "I can't sense Hashirama or Mito any longer, so they much have returned to the afterlife themselves. Most of the original plan stands. With the mess he's made, Gaara will be desperate for a way to control his demon, and if we can promise him one he will follow us. Given what your spies have reported of their relationship, the fact that you killed his father will probably endear you to him. We cut the jinchūriki off from the Uchiha, kill the adults, and take Sasuke–which, if I have your help, won't be insurmountably difficult."

"And Naruto?" Sasori pressed. "If he forced back the Kyūbi through will alone, he is either far better trained or far wiser than his idiotic facade would suggest."

"We didn't give him enough credit, true. In the arena he had something to protect. We take it away, his will crumbles. When he unleashes the Kyūbi in his grief it will wipe clean any incriminating evidence." He smirked. "And everything else within several kilometers. I even have the perfect spark to set the fire milling about the arena.

"When they're dead and we return with Gaara, I can still convince Pain it is more advantageous to abduct the new Kyūbi jinchūriki Konoha creates, extract the bijū from the baby, and reseal it in an adult vessel already loyal to him. Konan would probably even volunteer, if I worded it properly. She is so loyal to him it's repulsive."

"And you are _sure_ he will listen to you?" Sasori persisted, as he stood as well, an undercurrent of nervousness rising in his usually flat tone.

"I have found him to be receptive to my suggestions," Orochimaru said smoothly. "He thinks we 'understand each others' pain'." He snorted. "For a man who used to call himself a god, it is truly pathetic how desperate for guidance he's become. After all this time, somewhere in his shriveled, blackened heart he still cares for Jiraiya, poor boy. As I knew the man for so long… it's only logical Pain would look to me for the counsel my former teammate is too far away to give."

"Lucky for us Sarutobi hushed up the reason for your desertion so well, isn't it," Sasori commented. "It's been almost a year since you recruited me and you still haven't spilled the entirety of that story."

"I haven't, have I," Orochimaru said contemplatively. "When we're finished here, do remind me?"

"_If_," Sasori corrected. "The Uchiha Itachi got the better of Mei. As much of an insufferable bleeding-heart as she is, she is still a very powerful kunoichi. Even with my help, victory is not a sure thing. Don't underestimate him."

"I don't intend to," Orochimaru said, and extracted a palm-sized wafer of rose quartz from inside his coat, so transparently pure it could have been tinted glass. He exhaled on the surface, and a few moments later a woman's face appeared as the condensation cleared. Her features were sharply chiseled, with thin lips painted crimson and locks of slate-blue hair framing her face. "Guren. Has the Ichibi been restrained yet?"

"Yes, sir," she answered. "Two Uchiha and your summons forced it back. They're making their way down the cliffside, slowly. The woman and Gaara seem to be weakened or wounded in some way."

"Good. Keep watch with your transmitters but have the others keep their distance–both Itachi and his mother are sensors of no small skill," he said. "And it bears repeating… don't look any of them in the eyes. Even the child. I'll have further orders for you soon."

Guren acknowledged the warning with a nod. "The village is swarming with monkeys," she added. "They seem to be looking for something. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. Not for very long," he finished. The reflection was replaced by his own and he tucked the round of crystal inside his coat.

"Those summons are the Hokage's, aren't they," Sasori said.

Orochimaru's lips parted to reveal pointed teeth. "Yes, but he won't find me. There is more than one man in Sunagakure who needs him dead."

-ooo-

The Sandaime had nothing to do but wait in the shade of a broken column until his summons found Orochimaru's trail. The Ichibi was contained, the Shodai and his wife returned to their eternal rest, and Sasuke and Naruto both under the protection of two very powerful Uchiha. After the shock of the blow to their city had worn off, the surviving members of the Sunagakure village council had set their shinobi to the task of saving as many as they could, and they neither needed nor wanted to take orders from another kage. All of the great villages had experienced the devastation of a bijū tearing lose of its bonds. They had the situation in hand, bereft of their leader or not.

Small feet slapped against the rocks above, and Hiruzen raised his head to greet the messenger. The monkey swung down from a piece of bent rebar and landed in the rubble, eye to eye with Sarutobi. He was about the size of a six-year-old child, his luxuriant fur a pattern of black, white, and brick red. Pale tufts framed his face, giving him the appearance of an ancient, bearded hermit, but despite the impression of old age the voice that issued from his mouth was that of a young man. "My mate found his trail. This way," the monkey said, gesturing with his head. "She thinks he's injured. Alone. We don't know what happened to the puppeteer."

"Well done, although it will almost certainly be a trap," he said, and stood with far too much care. He had let the opportunity to stop his wayward student before age had stiffened his joints slip by unnoticed.

"We know," the monkey acknowledged. "She's keeping her distance. Only three of your bodyguard have made it over. Do you want to wait for more reinforcements?"

"And let him slip away again?" Hiruzen said, mostly to himself. "No. Not this time." He followed as the monkey padded deeper into the shattered body of the arena. "How are the rescue efforts proceeding?"

"One of the village seniors has temporarily taken charge; she's gotten the panic to manageable levels," the small creature replied, as it scampered over the uneven ground. "The hospital is overwhelmed, so medical tents are being set up in the square."

He acknowledged the news with a nod and fell silent, as did his guide. They left the cacophony of the main exit behind and worked their way into the narrow, rectangular structure attached to the western quarter of the arena. The fittings were finer here, the floors of an olive granite and the wall sconces hand-blown by the justly famed Wind Country glassmakers. This building had hosted the reception for the continental elite before the contest, an event where the wealthy and powerful forged alliances and slipped each other favors that were to decide the fate of villages and nations.

The chameleon cloaks hiding his bodyguards were swept off as he approached, and another monkey of the same species as the first–smaller, and with finer features–greeted him silently. She took the lead with her mate down the grand staircase. The quaking caused by Gaara's transformation had cracked the polished walls and torn apart the electric lines. The lamps had failed and the only light came from the slit windows lining the walls.

The second monkey held up her hand and gestured to a fork in the hallway. The floor in that direction was slicked with water from a ruptured pipe, and the summoned creatures picked their way around the puddles. Hiruzen and his bodyguards lightened his steps with a delicate aura of chakra, which deadened the sound of their footfalls. The pair of monkeys stopped halfway to the end of the hall and pointed to a pair of double doors carved from a rosy, imported wood. He could feel someone powerful in that direction. _Several_ someones.

And it had been a trap, of course. It was suspicious only three of his bodyguards had answered the radio summons. Of those three, the Aburame in an ape mask made him particularly uneasy, a last-minute replacement for another man who'd injured his knee in a completely unremarkable training mishap. There was no evidence of disloyalty, no troubling inconsistencies in his mission record… but interactions with him were still unsettling in a way difficult to form into words. Given the responsibility placed upon them, all ANBU agents were professional to the extreme, but, even so, their personalities did tend to leak around the masks–fears, desires, annoyances, or misgivings. It had never done so with that man… as if he simply did not possess any.

The monkey king was loyal to the end, and so were his smaller clansfolk, but that did not mean they could not be tricked. They were the closest to human of all the animal clans, and just as susceptible to manipulation and illusion. He gave them the hand signal to return home–the white-bearded monkeys were clever and inquisitive, but among the smallest of their clan and were ill-suited to the battlefield.

He gestured his bodyguards forward, pressed against the walls. When their backs were turned, he swept them into a simple genjutsu. Another handsign and a kage bunshin appeared in his place, while he retreated into an alcove farther up the hall, invisible to their eyes. If they were loyal, they would do nothing, and he would trade places with his duplicate when the battle was joined. If they were not…

From the hidden alcove, he heard the hinges creak as the door swung open.

Barely a second passed until the clone's memories were hurled back inside his head by a barrage of chakra-saturated kunai. The snarl of rage tugged from the single loyal ANBU agent was quickly silenced as one of her fellows turned upon her with his sword. That glimpse of the room had given him enough information to subvert the ambush. He'd already prepared the signs for his first attack.

The walls and ceiling before him melted into a torrent of suffocating mud, sweeping the traitors off their feet. It burst through the archway and rushed into the room beyond. He was rewarded with a few cries of pain and surprise from within the chamber as he returned the earth to its previously solid state. He wrenched the doors from their hinges with the last of the doton and strode through in the wake of its destruction. Two of the eight traitors had been caught in the mud river and had been partially submerged when it reverted to stone, leaving them pinned, defenseless, against the far wall.

There was no surprise on his face as he locked eyes with his opponent. The kage bunshin's swift death had told him one more thing–the man waiting for him was not Orochimaru.

Shimura Danzō had discarded the cane and the sling that had immobilized his right arm. The hem of his robes was splattered with mud, but his reflexes were still as sharp as Hiruzen's own and the jutsu hadn't even bruised him. His remaining attendants all wore the white vests and masks of Konoha's ANBU.

"I wish you had not forced me into this, Hiruzen. I truly do," Danzo said. "But I have heard from reputable sources that you were going to have me executed."

The regret rang true against Hiruzen ears, attuned by a lifetime's toil in the pit of shinobi politics. "Morino Ibiki was one of yours?" he asked incredulously.

"No. Not him," Danzō answered. "He remains unbreakable–you ought to be proud. But the young man he allows to clean his office wasn't nearly as daunting a mind to snap. He placed the audio transmitter seals as requested before regrettably falling ill and being discharged from the service. I thought it would be prudent to track the T & I Division's investigation into the violation of our security. As is usually the case, I was right."

"You were the one that's been allowing Orochimaru and his people inside the detection barrier," Hiruzen said. He couldn't summon up any shock–he felt drained, hollowed out, by all the former comrades fate had forced him to confront today. "Have you lost your mind? You created Root to kill him. How could you ally yourself with–"

"That was something you never truly understood, did you–that your sentimentality was going to be your end and the end of Konoha," he spat. "Yes, I promised Orochimaru the body of Uchiha Sasuke for his help in this endeavor, and in others… but once he fulfilled his purpose, I had no intention of keeping that promise. Dangling an Uchiha just out of his reach made him easy enough to control. It gave him direction. A purpose to his research."

"And who could hope to kill Orochimaru when he came to claim Sasuke? You?" Hiruzen asked.

"You are far too old to be acting this naïve," Danzō said scathingly. "It is the child himself who is expendable. He is the only suitable vessel of Madara's bloodline. The other one, although young, I have also had under surveillance. Orochimaru would not have succeeded in extracting her from the village alive."

"The 'other one'? Sasuke's cousin? She's a _four-year-old girl_!" he exclaimed. "What do you gain from all this? What did Orochimaru give you in return?"

Danzō remained impassive, skirting the question. "Itachi is a very wise young man in many ways," he said. "But in more he's a fool, and I will not have a fool leading my village. Left to his own devices, that boy would have driven Konoha into the ground! When it was only us, when you were willing to look the other way and let me serve our village as I saw fit, I was content. Itachi would not give me that kind of liberty… if he even allowed me to keep my life once he took your place. So I did what I have always done–I made a setback an opportunity.

"The shinobi world was split into a hundred warring clan holdings before Hashirama made his peace. Now we are five, plus the small nations, still spitting and feuding like trapped cats. He was a great man, but his work was incomplete. To end these wars we erase all boundaries. We become one people. I was given the opportunity to begin in Sunagakure, and I took it."

"One people… one people under _your rule_?" Hiruzen asked, stunned by his brazenness. "I cannot believe I never saw it until now… too willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, I suppose. This isn't for the sake of our village. It never has been. Ever since we were children you have been terrified of finding yourself second best, and you could never bear to accept anyone's help." He paused for a moment, saddened. "Even mine, given freely, without anything expected in return. Every comrade you saw surpass you was not a cause for celebration but one more rival you had to overcome.

"There's never been a time when you were not jealous of the Uchiha. First it was your teammate, Kagami. I cannot recall him showing you any ill-will when we were genin, but you never forgave him for being promoted to chūnin before you were. Or Fugaku, after he and his officers completed the investigation into Root that forced me to remove you from the directorship of ANBU? And finally, Itachi… when I chose him to succeed me… that was the final straw, wasn't it? Most old men would have let it go, made their peace. But not you."

Long years of practice kept Danzō's anger from boiling over, but Hiruzen could still see it simmering in a dozen subtle, unconscious gestures–the way his lip curled on the right side, or the aborted tightening of a fist. He'd known the other man since they were six years old, probably better than anyone else of their generation still alive.

"The Uchiha have nothing to do with this," Danzō said, in a flat tone that failed to hide the way he flinched from the piercing observation.

"You're deluding yourself," Hiruzen persisted. "I know exactly what it is you're planning to do, and what kind of Hokage you would become. It would make the village strong–monstrously strong. But it would become a place I would be ashamed to call my home. Even if you kill me here, please don't–"

He tipped his chin back, letting contempt wash down his face. "I stopped casting about for your approval a long time ago. You and that idealistic Uchiha will be the end of us all! Do you know what kind of enemies are circling our village? You have noidea how strong Akatsuki's leader truly is, and when he scents blood in the water he will take his vengeance for–"

"For what?" Hiruzen asked softly. "Danzō… what have you _done_?"

There was no answer, only a silence of faint shame and regret. No words passed between Danzō and his subordinates, but the atmosphere in the chamber shifted. There was nothing left to say.

Hiruzen knew every masked man and woman in this room, by their height, their stance, the shades of their skin and hair. They were some of the best ANBU had to offer. Their attention was focused to a needle's point on where he stood on the frozen stream of mud, and none wavered at the unspoken order to murder their rightful Hokage.

He would be fighting in close quarters; outnumbered six to one. He'd never had the advantage of height when fighting hand-to-hand, and the weight of almost seventy years had pressed his spine down even further. Nor did he have the muscle strength or sharp senses of shinobi in the prime of their lives.

All he had on his side was sixty-nine years of accumulated wisdom… all of which told him to sidestep with a perfect economy of motion as the burliest of the Root agents tried to grab him from behind. Using the thrust of a thin pillar of earth, he slammed the man against the wall, audibly cracking ribs. The Aburame rushed him almost simultaneously, as he peeled off the glove covering his left hand. Patches of violet welled up to cover his flesh until his fingers were almost dripping with masses of the microscopic kikaichu. A puff of dust spread out from where Hiruzen had been standing as he flickered away from the strike. That one he jabbed in the back with his elbow, where multiple layers of cloth and padded armor covered his skin and the viciously venomous insects couldn't penetrate. He stumbled over the uneven floor and fell, carried to the ground by the pain of bruised organs and his redirected momentum.

The faint scrape of a katana being drawn from its sheath spun his focus to the third agent, a woman with slicked-back burgundy hair, as she swung at him with a weapon that shone with its own azure light. It was a chakra-conducting blade, unblockable and so sharp the cutting edge extended several centimeters beyond the metal itself. She swiped and hit air once. Twice. The third swing clipped through the end of the long ribbon that fastened the hitai-ate to his helmet. It was a calculated sacrifice; allow her think he was slowed by arthritis, that she had nearly gotten him…

On the fourth thrust, he let her, and the tip of her sword pierced his shoulder just as he slipped away with a kawarimi. The blade embedded itself in the slab of stone he substituted for his body. He tapped her in the back of the neck to halt the flow of chakra around her body–and through the blade–and the weapon was trapped. It was wrenched from her hands as the slab toppled. He swept her feet out from under her, grasped the handle himself, and tugged it out. The steel immediately began to heat as he infused it with his own fire chakra, and it hissed with steam as he thrust it through the cage of bone protecting her heart. She slid off the blade and slumped to the floor.

The fourth and fifth Root agents had begun a complicated combination jutsu while the swordswoman had kept him occupied. A blast of heat assailed him as the sandstone that made up the walls began to melt and fuse into long daggers of glass, hundreds of them. He dove into the floor as the cloud of knives came screaming towards him. Three sliced into the arm he raised to shield his eyes, before he could sink his body into the protection of the stone.

He surfaced again behind the protection of the battered doors. One of the glass shards had worked its way through the joint on his bracer, cutting deep into his forearm. He tugged it out, grimacing. He was still outnumbered, and running low on chakra from the drain of summoning so many monkeys to search for Orochimaru. His best defense was to have the enemy defeat themselves. He worked his way painfully through the signs, and the genjutsu caught hold of the five remaining conscious minds and pull them under.

He took a deep breath and tossed a smoke bomb into the room to conceal his next move. In the four corners of the gallery a deep animal grunting began, the source concealed by the smoke. In turn, each of his enemies caught snatches of black fur rippling at the limits of their field of vision, and in turn each screamed as they felt hairy arms knock them to the ground. Massive hands close around their throats to crush the breath out of their bodies. The most powerful of the Monkey Clan were usually gentle and slow to anger, but they had held the deepest loyalty to the Sarutobi Clan for generations, fighting for them and them alone. When roused by a threat to their adoptive human brothers and sisters, their hideous strength was equal to that of five men. Their reputation held the illusion fast, and its victims immobilized on the floor. Hiruzen ducked into the smoke to dispatch what remained of the Root agents as they struggle fruitlessly against the gorilla's paws. Each was a quick cut or thrust, as merciful a death as he could provide for shinobi that fought, in their own way, for the same village he himself did.

Seven elite jōnin in less than five minutes. He _was_ getting old. Forty years ago it would have been half that time, and without a scratch.

Danzō hadn't fallen for it for long, and the genjutsu recoiled as he snapped himself free, before Hiruzen could reach him. The smoke parted as he funneled it out the broken windows with a fūton. As the whiteness dissipated Hiruzen glimpsed something red, like a blood blister, on his right hand before his sleeve fell over it again. It was _moving_.

Before he could ponder too deeply what the deformity was, Danzō unleashed a wave of invisible razors from his upraised hands. Hiruzen raised a thin wall of earth to block it, and when that was hammered apart he drew up another, and another and another, closing more of the distance each time. Finally, the rhythm faltered. He allowed the last of the fūton to clip his arms and face, and threw out a single kunai between the crumbling stone. It slipped between the debris and the barely discernible distortion wavering in the air. The tip pierced Danzō's throat and blood sprayed out over his pale robes. He backed against the wall, rendered mute by the damage to his windpipe.

"We've had our differences over the years, but until today I would not have hesitated to call you my friend," Hiruzen said, feeling his own throat begin to ache despite achieving his victory. "You bloodied your hands so I didn't have to. You shouldered all that darkness so I could remain the teacher, the husband, and the father that I wanted to be. At the very least, I should thank you for that."

He took a step back and turned away as the pool of blood spurting from the severed artery slowed to a trickle, and Danzō eyes fluttered closed. The familiar chakra signature guttered out, and Hiruzen withdrew his preternatural senses. He picked his way across the aftermath of their battle to the threshold of the hall, pausing a moment to allow his turbulent thoughts to settle into the mirror stillness the next battle would require.

Silence, and then a single breath, sharply inhaled. A bullet of compressed air spun out and struck Hiruzen in the back, tunneling though the mail armor, his spine, and then his heart, splattering crimson across the floor. He dropped where he stood.

Danzō heaved himself off the polished stone, his hand brushing the unmarred skin of his throat. He flipped the hem of his sleeve aside as the sharingan embedded in his hand lost its whirling tomoe forever. From a pocket he extracted his radio and activated the channel. "Fū. It's done. Dispose of the evidence in the manner I briefed you on this morning."

"Understood," came the answer, a cold male voice.

He extracted his cane from the rubble and stopped by one of the corpses, the masked Aburame. He stepped carefully around the puddles of blood, swimming with the infectious insects, and prodded his motionless chest with the tip of the walking stick. "You will have to select a new partner. Torune did not survive."

Static dominated the line for a few moments. "Understood," he repeated, in almost the same emotionless tone.

He replaced the radio in his robes and moved to leave. Hiruzen was splayed across the threshold, and he would not be able to pass without stepping over the body. Death had claimed him so swiftly his eyes still stared into the distance. Averting his own, unable to meet the unyielding gaze of the corpse, Danzō knelt to swipe his hand across the lids to shut them for the last time.

He faltered before his palm brushed Hiruzen's face. His hand was shaking and he couldn't master it. The tremor spread up his arm, transforming into a terrible pain orbiting each stolen sharingan. He felt the tissue ripple, as the muscle strove to transform into heartwood, his blood to tree sap. The seals etched into the cuffs on his right arm were pushed to their limits, and then, just as quickly and inexplicably, the pressure ceased.

In desperate haste, he tore off the bandages concealing the next sharingan implanted just above his wrist. Those three tomoe had become elongated and red, superimposed over a black circle that spread past the pupil. He unwrapped more of the bandaging to inspect the next sharingan. That one was now a pattern of eight slender black teardrops of varying lengths, the pointed tails arrayed around the pupil.

"Kagami… so it _was _all true…" he murmured to himself.

-ooo-

"Sunagakure is going to need every pair of able hands and every healer they can find," Itachi said, after Baki's team and Hinata had disappeared into the distance. "We head back to the arena. Ka-san, I'll scan the area along with you, but I doubt we'll be able to sense Orochimaru if he attempts to ambush us. Genma, what was the situation when you left?"

He removed the senbon from his mouth, his expression droll. "Short version: Fire and Wind Country are screwed. Not enough whiskey exists to make me feel better about how screwed we are."

"Can we have the _long_ version, please?" Itachi asked icily. Former ANBU tended to have a sense of humor so dark even other shinobi tripped over their jokes; Genma hadn't lost his since Kakashi had disbanded their team six years ago.

"The top tier of the civilian government of both countries has been wiped out," Genma said, slipping into the dry speaking style used to deliver oral mission reports. "Almost everyone in the VIP box nearest the kage's pavilion are dead, including both Daimyo, the Fire Daimyo's heir, and most of their cabinet members, guards, and attendants. The ones that were in the more distant boxes are badly wounded and most won't be in any shape to run a country until they heal.

"Damage to the infrastructure of Sunagakure is moderate. But casualties are going to be insanely high–the Kazekage oversold the tickets looking for a quick buck, and it's so hot a lot of the people trapped in the rubble just aren't going make it without water. The sandstone the Ichibi pulled out to form its body cracked and shifted the building's foundations, so the whole arena is structurally unstable and parts could collapse at any moment, resulting in even more casualties among the rescue crews. They're looking at manpower shortages as bad as what we got when the Kyūbi attacked Konoha."

He dropped his eyes. "There's one more thing. I wasn't able to confirm it yet, but chatter on the ANBU channels has the Hokage missing and possibly dead. Seven agents on his security detail abruptly dropped out of radio contact just before reports started coming in of some kind of explosion near the arena annex. The place is an inferno–there were fuel barrels stored under the building across the street."

Itachi raised his face to the oily smoke drifting across the village. "He went after Orochimaru. Now that we are aware he has mastered raising the dead, he could not afford to let him slip away again."

"The Old Man's not–" Naruto broke in. "He can't be!"

"What about the others from Konoha? My husband?" Mikoto asked over her shaken son, letting the stoic jōnin's mask slip for a moment. "Did they get out?"

"Hinata's teammates and family all made it, and so did that Lee kid; he stayed behind to help his team pull people out of the rubble. The others… I don't know," Genma said, shrugging slightly, downcast that he had nothing more concrete to offer. "I gather Hyūga-sama figured out quick something was going down, and he got the spectators moving right after that traitor stabbed the Kazekage. After Gaara started transforming, a handful of jōnin from Suna and one from Konoha stayed behind to try to reinforce one of the main stairwells with doton jutsu when the supports started to buckle. Your husband and Kakashi were the only ones I know of who were in the stands and could manipulate stone at that level."

"He'll be fine, Ka-chan," Naruto assured her. "He used to be an ANBU captain until he broke his back. He must've squeezed out of worse than this."

Mikoto forced an empty smile. "Of course. I'm sure…" she paused to steady her breath. "I'm sure you're right. Itachi, I assume you'll be taking point?"

"I will," he said. "Sasuke, you'll be directly behind me, and stay close. Genma, you're at three o'clock, Sakura at five, Mikoto at seven, Naruto at nine. If their head of event security was a traitor, we have to assume Orochimaru and Sasori's allies have been allowed into the village. There's no way to know how many we'll be facing."

The broken streets were a prime place to lay an ambush; the group assembled themselves into Itachi's chosen formation and readied their weapons. The genin said nothing as they walked, not even the normally voluble Naruto. The adrenaline that had fueled Sasuke's leap into the arena pit was seeping away, and he felt vaguely lightheaded from the heat and a sticky, suffocating dread.

It was Sakura who voiced the thought on all their minds, after the silence grew too heavy for her to bear. "You can do it, can't you, Itachi-sensei?"

"Do what?" he asked brusquely, sweeping the path before him with every sense that he possessed.

"Beat him," she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "You're stronger than Orochimaru… right?"

"Sakura, keep the chatter down," Mikoto ordered. "We need to focus on scanning–Naruto?"

He'd broken formation and was blinking furiously, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. "I… I don't feel good. My head's all…"

"Sasuke! Genma-san!" Sakura exclaimed, before she too dropped to her knees, cut down by an overwhelming fatigue. She retained enough coherency to jab her finger into a pressure point beneath her chin. Clinging desperately to the pain, her face contracted, but she didn't go under like the other three.

Mikoto and Itachi felt it wash over them as well, just as strains of unearthly music sharpened in the air.

"Ka-san… can you hear that?" Itachi asked, trying to shake himself free of the grogginess. Although a sharingan could pierce an illusion cast upon the eyes, it provided no such protection against one that wormed its way into the brain through the ears. "One of the shinobi that attacked the graduation picnic last summer used auditory genjutsu. I can't sense her. She's either cloaked or out of our range and amplifying the sound. Do you see anything that might be a chakra transmitter?"

"Yes. Two of them," she replied, after pacing in a quick circle, also woozy but still on her feet. "Some kind of crystals, I think. You couldn't see the… never mind," she finished, when Itachi grit his teeth at the question. She resheathed the kunai in her hand and went through a few handsigns. The lightning she called gathered into her stiffened hands, at the point of her longest finger. Focused as narrowly as a knitting needle, the electrical charge arced toward the two glows she could see hiding in the dusty gutters. The pink things shattered when the charge hit, scattering faceted shards into the street. The weight of the genjutsu eased immediately.

Free of it, Sakura clawed her way fully back to consciousness. She crawled over to Genma and tried to break him free by interrupting his chakra flow. When that failed, she unzipped his flak jack to his stomach and dug her knuckles into his sternum as hard as she could.

"Mother_fucker_!" Genma exploded, coming violently awake as the armor beneath his fatigues bit into the sensitive skin stretched directly over bone. He hastily zipped the vest back up as he reoriented himself. "That didn't pull you under, did it?" he asked looking at the girl with new respect.

"No, sir."

Mikoto roused Sasuke and Itachi took Naruto, snapping the genjutsu like dry twigs. As Mikoto pulled her middle son up, a length of silver exploded through the wall to their right side. Her sharingan gave her enough warning to duck as the sword blade pierced the space her head had occupied half a second before. Mikoto flipped onto her back as the sword retracted. She swore under her breath. "That was the Sword of Kusanagi! He must be directing it remotely!"

Several hostile presences entered the sensing range of the eldest Uchiha, nearing but not yet visible behind the rubble. The earth at the intersection of the next street swelled and rippled toward them, lurching the houses from their foundations. The clump scattered as the wave broke, trying to trap them. Itachi and Mikoto exchanged a brief glance as they landed on the same patch of paving stone. One of their enemies was within sight now, his chakra pulsing with unnatural strength.

"Orochimaru's close, but not here yet," Mikoto said. "What's he waiting for?"

"Mito injured him," Itachi explained. "He's trying to avoid a direct confrontation with the two of us. I intend to force one regardless."

The ground rippled with chakra a second time, and Sasuke shouted out a warning before it burst. Itachi vaulted over the wall that rose from the earth to confront their attacker, leaving his team momentarily to his mother's capable command. The man was huge, with oddly textured, red-orange skin, a mane of hair in a slightly lighter shade, and a wicked leer splayed across his face. He hefted a piece of the crumbling apartment to lob at Itachi, with more strength than was humanly possible, but his bulk was no match for an Uchiha's speed. Itachi avoided the chunk of masonry easily and swung a reaping scythe of water at his neck; the suiton tore out a second grin across his throat and he dropped.

He withdrew back to his team's position when another two Otogakure shinobi attacked–twin brothers with pale gray hair, their faces just as warped as the one Itachi had just dispatched. Mikoto was taking no chances and instantly chained both in a paralyzing genjutsu while they were still meters away from Sasuke. She ordered Genma to dispatch them, unwilling to move from Sasuke's side. His kunai found half a dozen fatal points, and they were dead in moments.

The burnt orange hue and demonic armor plates retreated from their skin as they bled out. Mikoto winced at the very human corpses they left behind, smaller than she was and narrow at the shoulders. Genma nudge the nearest over on his back with his sandal. "They're kids," he murmured. "They're just _kids_. How could that _bastard_–"

Orochimaru's shinobi didn't give him time to complete the thought. A hail of oversize shuriken come next, from a woman who revealed herself atop a building. The blades that rained down on them were not metal but stone, a smoky quartz hardened and sharpened with chakra to impossibly keen edge. Itachi deflected them all with the two kunai in his fists and then flipped his blades around to launch at her. They struck her body and rebounded, as the form was revealed to be nothing but a clone shaped of crystal.

Mikoto pushed Sasuke aside as a fountain of quartz shot up from the midst of their formation. There was almost no warning–their opponent had sent the pulse of chakra deep beneath the street's surface, hiding it from their sharingan until the trap was sprung. She remained hidden even as identical spouts sprang forth from up and down the length of the street, sending brick and dust flying. The crystal pillars spread out and joined into a wall–the hail of shuriken had been intended to separate them, with Mikoto and Sasuke on one side and Itachi, Naruto, Sakura, and Genma on the other.

-ooo-

The last of the unobscured sunlight was blotted out as the crystal walls joined above Mikoto and Sasuke's heads in a dome, rendering the light rosy and dim.

"This isn't like any doton I've ever seen," Sasuke commented nervously, pressing his palm against the glassy surface.

"It isn't," Mikoto concurred. "But it might still have the same weaknesses. Get to the far side and shield your eyes."

The crystal dampened sound, leaving her unable to shout a warning the others. She hooked a tendril of genjutsu into her eldest son to project the sound of her voice into his head. It was a poor approximation of what the Yamanaka telepathy could do, but it served its purpose. _Everyone stand back, _she said_. I think I can blast through the wall._

_Understood_, came Itachi's echoing reply.

Mikoto initiated a sequence of signs as the dust began to spin at her feet. She concentrated, and after a few seconds the snout of a white wolf emerged from the diamond between her joined thumbs and forefingers, wrought all of sparking energy. There was a flash of light in the shape of a lithe canine body, a pungent chemical smell, and the sound of glass shattering if left too long over an open flame. When the smoke cleared, Mikoto let out a hiss of frustration. She hadn't broken through the wall completely, and the gouge she'd carved was healing itself. Within seconds the crystal had restored the polished sheen, and the only evidence she'd struck it was the scent of ozone hanging in the air.

_The wall renews itself–we can't get out!_ Mikoto sent across the barrier. _You'll have to kill that woman to break the jutsu_!

Sasuke wiped away the moisture gathering on his upper lip. It was even hotter inside the sealed cage than in the free air. "Ka-san… even if that didn't work, it was still pretty cool."

Mikoto allowed herself a tiny smile. "Konoha's White Fang _was_ my jōnin sensei."

"Promise you'll teach it to me when we get ho–"

His request was drowned in a scream and the kunai dropped out of his hand. He clutched his left arm against his chest, and black fire began creeping across his skin, spreading from the wrist. It consumed his body without impediment, winding across his face and then down his bare calves. Overwhelmed, he collapsed to his knees. Mikoto caught him before he fell prostrate into the dust, tucking his head against her shoulder. She'd nursed him though concussions, burns, and broken bones, and none of those training injuries even approached the pain he was in now.

But her concern didn't overlap her sense–they were still in the middle of a battlefield. A shape dressed in white, with long black hair, rose into the crystal itself, growing more distinct as it drew closer. Fear sank into the pit of Mikoto's stomach. The raiton she'd used was both chakra-intensive and took several seconds to ready; she wouldn't be able to complete another lightning wolf in time. She did the only thing she could do–attempt to envelop Orochimaru in a genjutsu. She sank the barbs in, cruel and tenacious, and lowered Sasuke gently to the ground.

"Uchiha Mikoto–I remember you," Orochimaru said languidly, as his body emerged from the wall. His mouth was twisted in a condescending smirk, but he nevertheless kept his eyes averted from Mikoto's face. "Sakumo's darling; top of the class. You even outscored Minato, although, of course, the head start you had on him didn't last terribly long. If I'd had the fushi tensei perfected before Sarutobi chased me out of Konoha, it may very well have been in your skin." He raised his longsword, a stolen treasure of Konoha. She palmed her own weapon but couldn't put much faith in it; the jian he carried could slice apart the steel kunai curled within her fingers like it was made of corkwood. "You are going to die today, and then I can finally have my sharingan."

When she spoke her quiet voice froze the air. "You touch my son and I will _tear you apart_."

The moment he lunged for her, she ducked and dragged him mercilessly into one of her darkest genjutsu. A pool of black sludge opened beneath his feet and surged up in a geyser of sticky tendrils. They lashed around his body like the tentacles of an octopus. She bent all of his senses toward experiencing the pain in every exquisite detail. The imaginary bindings began to hiss and a foul smell drifted up to his nose. The slime was dissolving skin and muscle, tightening and tightening until they reached bone. He flinched, but didn't entirely lose the look of disdain.

Without meeting his eyes, without the steel bindings of Tsukuyomi, he could still fight it… and he did. Although his arms and legs were bound, he could still move the muscles of his face. He unlocked his jaw, wider than a human face ought to stretch. New reptilian minds poured into the dome… a dozen… two dozen.

Mikoto killed some with a blast of fire and scrambled to catch the rest in the genjutsu before they could reach her or Sasuke, but they were being summoned so fast it was impossible. The air filled with the susurration of their scales. One squirmed its way around her neck and tightened its coils. The constrictor resisted her efforts to force it to release her; it had a strong, agile mind–a sentient mind, as disciplined as that of a human shinobi. She started to cough involuntarily at the pressure against her throat, but she was trapped by the concentration necessary to carry so many illusions. As soon she resharpened her focus to the one trying to choke the breath out of her, another would tear loose of its paralysis and strike in its place.

Orochimaru was gasping himself, unable to shake free from the torturous genjutsu in which she'd trapped him. He passed his grotesquely long tongue over his lips, undaunted by the pain.

"We'll see who flinches first, shall we?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Thoughts: **This chapter is going to make a lot of you want to stab me in the hand with a spork. I'm sorry! I write bittersweet; right now we are at the bitter. I warned y'all at the beginning things were going to get bleak for Team Itachi, but I swear to god I'm not going to pull a George R.R. Martin on you and massacre everybody for shits and giggles.

Hopefully, there will be enough warm and fuzzy feelings in the next chapter, and also the final arc, to cushion your poor, battered feels.**  
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**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 21 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Itachi ordered the four left outside the prison of rose quartz to clear away, still blinking away the grit its eruption had disturbed. Mikoto's powerful raiton was detectable only as a faint flash and a pop from within. Not even a hairline crack was visible from the outside.<p>

"Sasuke! SASUKE!" Naruto screamed. He sprinted to the wall of crystal and struck it with the side of his fist. It was barely even hot.

"Stop it," Itachi said tersely, pulling him back. "We have to kill the jutsu caster to bring down the barrier–Ka-san just told me it's reforming itself, probably using the ambient dust. I need as many kage bunshin as you can give me to flush the woman out before–" The distant snapping of wooden joints drained what little hope remained on his face. "The puppeteer interferes."

Naruto let his hand squeak down the gleaming surface as he turned to face their next opponent. Sasori landed on the tallest of the nearby buildings, crouching on his toes at the apex of the roof. A flock of puppets in ragged black robes were hovering behind his head, led by the thing that had once been the man's teacher. The iron sand streamed down the building in a shimmering waterfall, forming a screen ready to block any attempt Itachi made to move closer. The wind shifted, wafting towards them the bitterness of the poison soaking every particle. They did not dare risk even a scratch.

The woman who had summoned the crystal dome landed on the sun deck of the apartment to Sasori's left. Unlike the first three of Orochimaru's subordinates, she was no cocky adolescent but a grown woman, experienced and cautious. She crossed her arms over the breast of her short kimono and planted her foot on the low guard wall, daring Itachi to try ensnaring her in an illusion.

Sasori sent one of the puppets forward to speak for him, and the cloud parted slightly to let it pass. It had been fashioned in the shape of a little girl, so skeletal it stirred equal amounts of disgust and pity. Its hinged jaw snapped open to display two rows of inhumanly sharp, steel teeth. "As worried as you must be about your sweet, sweet mother, I think you have other problems. This is Guren; my partner picked her up somewhere in Earth Country and she is _quite_ good," Sasori said nastily, through the small puppet's mouth. Its voice was treble, mocking, and grated on their ears. "After I learned how interested Orochimaru was in your eyes, I must say it piqued my curiosity. I've never tried incorporating dōjutsu into a puppet before–Sunagakure simply doesn't have any. And unlike my partner, you are just as useful to me and my endeavors deceased, Itachi."

Naruto snarled, and his elder brother clamped a hand down on his shoulder to restrain him. The whiskers brushed across Naruto's cheeks grew more pronounced and his eyes went bloody red. "You'll take my brothers over my dead body! You put that seal thing in Gaara's clothes, didn't you? He almost killed me! Don't you–"

"Pity he didn't," the puppet remarked.

Sakura dashed forward to take Naruto's hand, even as the claws closing around her fingers nicked her skin. "Don't, Naruto," she whispered into his ear. Her touch diffused some of the tension thrumming through her teammate, and he abruptly stopped struggling against Itachi's grip.

"What do you want with the jinchūriki?" Itachi asked Sasori's puppet.

"You'd have to ask our illustrious leader that, although as far as I know he hasn't spilled his ultimate plan even to Orochimaru. If you mean me, personally?" the female puppet cocked its head, and the others far behind it seemed to stand more sharply at attention. "Not a single thing, beyond that one stone dead and the Kyūbi resealed in a less irritating vessel. For rookie genin, Naruto and his comrades have displayed a remarkable ability to foul up our plans–the fiasco at the graduation picnic, getting a warning to the Hokage out of Training Ground Forty-Four, suppressing the Kyūbi even after Orochimaru tore open his seal… frankly, I would find it very satisfying to skewer each and every one of them."

The puppet's eyes rolled from Itachi to Sakura, who couldn't suppress a whimper at the killing intent that washed over her. She let Naruto's hand go and stumbled backward, almost falling into Genma.

Sasori stood, and the particles writhing before the Konoha shinobi solidified into a grid of spears–Itachi wasn't getting any more information out of him now. He grabbed Naruto and flickered away as the weapons whistled towards them. Sakura he trusted to Genma; they had served together in ANBU only briefly, but he was a seasoned combat veteran and never lost his composure, no matter how dire the situation.

She screamed and threw her hands before her face, cowering from what looked to be her certain death. Calm as ever, Genma stepped in front of her and raised his hands to perform a single seal. He barely flinched as the iron lances bore down on their position. When they reached a point only a dozen centimeters from the tip of his nose, the metal passed an invisible barrier and winked out of existence. They _re_appeared several meters behind the pair, still carrying all their momentum. The tips shattered the windows of the storefront at their backs and dug deep gouges into the ornamental plaster, but both were left completely unharmed.

Using Sasori's own weapons as cover, Genma threw out a smoke bomb and pulled Sakura behind the same apartment complex in which Itachi and Naruto had taken shelter. It was made up of three squat rectangles arrayed around a courtyard, with narrow walkways separating the blocks. The open space was mostly gravel, with some drooping squash plants and herbs tucked in a corner of the garden.

"Wait… how… how did you _do_ that?" Sakura panted with disbelief as Genma dragged her past the open gate.

"Jikukan ninjutsu, thank the Yondaime," he said, coming to meet Itachi in the shade of one of the buildings. "But I can only pull that off once a day."

"Take the two of them and run," Itachi ordered Genma. "Find Kakashi, Gai, Kurenai… as many Konoha jōnin as you can to protect the genin in the event I cannot take down Sasori and Guren by myself."

"Sir," he acknowledged. There were no objections and no witticisms–he knew when he was outclassed.

Naruto jerked his arm away when Sakura reached for him. "I'm not running!" he barked at his elder brother. His breath was shuddering, not in fear but in outrage. "I know what I am and what it means to live as a jinchūriki. But you're my _family_. I can't let any Uchiha die for me knowing that I'd turned my back on you to save my own skin!"

"Naruto, this is insane," Itachi snapped. "Against someone like Sasori or Orochimaru, you couldn't–"

Something exploded above their heads and brick and glass showered the ragged garden. A quartz dragon reared and dove down again, trying to crush them. Genma pushed Sakura down a path between the buildings as more debris rained down, crushed by the construct's claws. The crystal wasn't nearly as fast as Sasori's puppets, and Naruto managed to stay a step ahead of the dragon's teeth himself. Destabilized by its enormous weight, the apartment building tilted, and the third floor collapsed into the second, which broke into the first. A tumble of brick and stone flooded between the pairs, blocking Itachi and Naruto from the narrow exits.

"Genma, just go!" Itachi called, coughin in the dusty air.

Naruto found a patch of steady ground and filled the courtyard with his kage bunshin, giving his opponents a vexing distraction. They swarmed across the devastated buildings, calling out insults as they went.

"Couldn't what? Make a difference?" Naruto said stubbornly, as the construct moved off to snap at the dispersing clones. "You're getting my help whether you want it or not."

Crushing down his annoyance, Itachi ordered the real Naruto to follow him and sought out Orochimaru's female ally. Freeing Mikoto and Sasuke was foremost in his mind. His mother was a formidable shinobi, but she fought best from behind the lines, using her genjutsu skills and penetrating intellect to destroy her enemies before they even realized they were under attack. Already weakened from the effort of holding off the Ichibi, face to face against one of the Sannin… he wasn't sure she would prevail.

The last of Naruto's clones were being struck down by the puppets and Guren's construct. It left little time for them to neutralize her, but creeping through the alleyways Itachi finally snatched a scrap of luck. Caught up in the heat of battle, she hadn't taken enough care to keep herself distanced from him. He caught her metaphorical scent and finally spied her directing the crystal dragon from a fallen doorway. There were faint, blurry smudges of chakra ringing her position–fist-sized crystals like the one used to amplify her ally's musical genjutsu, and probably sensory devices or spyglasses of some kind. Hidden behind one of the interior walls of the devastated house, Itachi drowned her in another illusion and she slumped over. The crystal dragon froze in place, becoming nothing but a crudely sculpted statue.

Realizing Guren had been disabled, the puppets flocked to her position faster than should have been possible. Itachi had mere moments to act, and the choice between killing her and shielding Naruto was no choice. The remains of the house provided little cover as the whole area was showered with senbon drawn from the metallic cloud. Itachi wrapped them both in Susanō's ribcage as the deadly rain hissed down. It struck its torso with a clear ringing and rebounded, then oozed up from the dust to reform into a sphere hovering beside the Kazekage puppet.

"We _need_ to stop that sand," he said to Naruto. He had shielded his younger brother from Sasori's sight with a touch of genjutsu, and an idea coalescing in his mind. "I'm going to draw the puppet close enough to use my gōkakyū. The fire _must_ be strong enough to char whatever organic components are allowing him to utilize another person's jutsu. When I drop the shield, I need you to amplify it. As wide and as hot as you possibly can."

"Like I used to practice with Sasuke, but stronger?" Naruto asked.

"As strong as you can make it. We _cannot miss_. The poisons of Wind Country are terrible things, and even a nick is likely enough to kill."

Itachi dropped the protection of Susanō's ribs. He slowed his hands a fraction, so Naruto's less experienced fingers would trigger his own jutsu at exactly the right moment. Naruto exhaled a beat after Itachi did, still invisible to Sasori. The puppet withdrew, but not quickly enough to account for the power Naruto brought to fan the flames. Itachi's whirlwind katon became a tremendous hurricane, roaring in defiance.

The dust and debris littering the battlefield was thrown upward as the oxygen above them was consumed, and the rooftops were scorched black. As the wood and dry flesh was consumed, the mass of iron shuddered and lost all cohesion. The sphere disintegrated to mingle with the ochre dust swirling around them. Three of the puppets swooping behind the Kazekage were caught as well, and the tinder-dry hair and clothes bloomed with fire. The oily venom coating their weapons and soaked into their limbs lit next, sending gouts of acrid smoke across the battlefield.

Itachi launched himself at Sasori as he felt the tide of battle shift–the puppeteer was reeling from the loss of the pride of his collection. Itachi dove into the opening Naruto had provided, twisting around the compressed jet of water Sasori called forth from his right hand. It blasted apart stone where it struck, but the power of the mechanism still couldn't match Itachi's speed. As the last of the high-pressure liquid spurted out, Itachi snagged Sasori's belled sleeve in his fingers and pulled his face near.

Sasori's eyes may have been glass, but they channeled the illusion into his mind all the same. It called him back into what Itachi suspected was his greatest fear–the human destiny of disease, pain, disfigurement, and senescence he had cast away along with his discarded flesh.

The expression of his wooden body went dead as all of his awareness was pulled inside his own mind. Within the darkened world, his stiff face abruptly regained the full range of human expression. It clenched with surprise as sensation flooded back into his body–his lungs yearning for air, his muscles burning with fatigue. Itachi did not intend to let him savor what he had gone without for so long.

Fever's chill swept across his form. He staggered and fell to his side, overtaken by weakness and nausea. A throbbing ache spread out across his muscles and into his head, then down his throat and into his chest. He began to cough as his lungs filled with fluid. His hands lost their youthful grace as the joints swelled with arthritis and the muscles withered before his eyes.

"You had a human body once," Itachi said quietly, as he finally revealed himself within the second world. He did not bind Sasori; the illusion of deathly illness had rendered him helpless. "To seek an immortal life–to flee from sickness and pain, without regard to the cost you've forced others to pay for it–is the act of a coward. You are as twisted as Orochimaru." Itachi squeezed tighter, and Sasori groaned as he felt his heartbeat stutter. "Or worse. When he was driven from Konoha, even he didn't kill his own teacher purely for the sport."

Oddly, the exultation over the murder Sasori had displayed in front of his former teammate and the other Suna shinobi did not resurface. "Don't you _dare_ lecture me, Itachi," he seethed, in the cracked voice of a man who had endured so much loss it had rotted through every sweetness life had offered him. "You're just a child. You have no idea what's been taken from me… how many times I've been betrayed… how the Sandaime Kazekage treated his own…"

Itachi had neither patience nor pity for those who used their own suffering as an excuse to inflict it upon others. He prepared to strike the final blow when his senses were inundated with demonic chakra. The shock halted his hands; the hatred washing over him was far stronger than anything he had ever felt from Naruto before. Sasori squirmed free as Itachi's control of the illusion fractured at the seams. Returned to the strength of his wooden form, Sasori twisted his sleeve loose and flew immediately out of his reach. Guren was torn free of her paralysis as well, and Itachi was forced to break off pursuit of Sasori to avoid volley after volley of her crystal daggers.

His heart froze when he worked his way back to Naruto's position. His back was pressed against a wall, too weak to stand, and his shirt and pants were sodden with the blood spilling from a gash across his abdomen. The oversize shuriken that had torn it was embedded in the wall of another building far to his left. The stench of torn intestines for a moment overpowered the smoke of the burning kerosene, and to Itachi's horror he realized the hands Naruto had pressed against his belly were the only thing holding his guts inside him.

Itachi's eyes traced the shuriken's path to a man wearing a Konoha flak jacket, his blue-white hair whipping in the wind. Cold fire was crawling across his face, settling into lines of inky diamonds.

The air around Naruto rippled and condensed into a boiling shroud of chakra. He dropped on all fours, his breath a harsh growl. The terrible injury had healed over within seconds. The tears oozing from his eyes boiled away beneath the heat as he turned to face Mizuki. "_YOU_ BETRAYED HIM!?" Naruto screamed, as the Kyūbi's first tail rose to lash above his head. "IRUKA-SENSEI DIED BECAUSE OF _YOU_!?"

Mizuki looked at Naruto with utter, utter contempt. "Yes. He did. Orochimaru-sama doesn't take just anyone," he replied, spreading his hands wide. "I needed to find him a gift… prove my loyalty. See, there's a reason I've been stuck with you brats for the last six years. I got careless on a mission, and the police started asking questions about what happened to my teammates. Lots of questions. Enough questions that I've been refused a promotion to jōnin _five times_. I was really hoping I could do this the easy way… give Sasuke the nudge toward Orochimaru himself, but he is just too goddamn loyal to all of you."

The pressure in the air redoubled. Enraged beyond all reason, Naruto roared and sprang at Mizuki. Another tail bud appeared beside the first, and the second quickly unfurled.

The clattering of more puppets at Itachi's back spun him about; the half a dozen he had incinerated had not been Sasori's only weapons. His renewed attacks split him from his brother and the traitor. "_Naruto_! _NARUTO_! _STOP_!_" _Itachi cried, twisting between the blades launched at him, but Naruto was too consumed by murderous rage to heed the command.

-ooo-

Sasuke's hand twitched in the grit coating the road. His whole body burned like acid had replaced the blood pounding through his veins. His arms and legs felt so strange, as if the pain was a furious energy buzzing across his muscles that his fragile human body could barely contain. He realized, with a sickening jolt, that what his hands craved right now was death. He wanted to _kill_ something_. _

The strength of the desire frightened him, but it was not the time for qualms of conscience. The snakes encircling him were stiffly torpid, their mouths shut, their eyes still. But the serpent around his mother's neck hadn't slackened, and it was squeezing the life from her. She'd dropped the kunai to wrap her fingers around the snake's body. Her arms were shaking with the effort of keeping its coils from collapsing her windpipe, and Sasuke could see she was losing the battle.

Whatever Orochimaru's glassy eyes were staring at, it wasn't him. She had kept up the crushing pressure of the illusion even as she fought for enough air to keep herself rooted in consciousness. Bracing his hand against his knee, Sasuke got to his feet and took the few steps he needed to stand directly behind Mikoto. He reached up to close his fist around the snake's neck and squeezed with a strength he didn't know he possessed. It snapped backward with a satisfying crack. Her fingers found new purchase on the lithe body and she pulled its coils free, coughing, as the snake thrashed out its death upon the ground.

Mikoto glanced at Sasuke in brief thanks, and when she did he saw her sharingan had become a barbed, six-pointed star. She advanced on Orochimaru and the pressure of the illusion grew even greater. His knees went weak and she caught him by the collar of his long coat. He pinched his eyes shut in a feeble attempt to defend himself.

"After Madara died, I vowed never to use the Tsukuyomi on anyone, _ever_ again," Mikoto whispered, her voice corrosive with loathing. "But for you, I think I am going to make an exception."

Before she could pry his eyelids apart, a shockwave of blazing chakra swept over the battlefield. Sasuke's vision went black, overcome by the strength of the malice sluicing across his consciousness. He lost his balance and fell bent over his crossed forearms.

The illusion keeping Orochimaru paralyzed broke at the same moment. In the half a second he had free, his arms went as flexible as a snake's spine and he slammed Mikoto into the far wall, head-first. Sasuke's vision cleared in time to see her slide down the barrier, with a line of blood slipping down her cheekbone. All the snakes came alive at once, and all their head swung towards him. Renewed agony shot out of Sasuke's wrist as Orochimaru allowed more of the foreign chakra to surge from the cursed seal.

"_KA-SAN_!" he screamed. He couldn't tell if she was still breathing. The hatred he could feel compressing him from the outside was met and matched by that which surged up from within. It gave him a new, terrible strength, and when Orochimaru moved to drag him upright by his shirt, his fingers closed around the handle of the kunai Mikoto had dropped. Quick as lightning, he thrust it through Orochimaru's hand.

"You can still move?" Orochimaru said incredulously. He pulled the blade out and grabbed Sasuke by both wrists, pinning him to the wall. Sasuke cried out again, almost a sob, as the pain of the curse seal reached a crescendo. "Well. Isn't that something? You _are _a strong one, aren't you? A few more years and I don't think I would have been able to take you with the fushi tensei." He motioned with his head to one of the snakes, a slender thing with black patches laid over a yellow field, and it surged forward from the tangle to sink its fangs into Sasuke's calf. With the toxin it injected into his bloodstream came a final, irresistible downward plunge into insensibility.

When Sasuke had gone limp, Orochimaru extracted the communication crystal from his coat. "I have him. Break it off."

Within seconds, Guren emerged from the interior wall. She was bleeding from multiple gashes on her upper body and her face was ashen, but she kept her back straight and proud in front of her master.

"Take him to the southwestern river base," Orochimaru ordered. "I'll meet you there when I've finished with Itachi. The storm won't be a problem, I trust?"

"No, Orochimaru-sama," she said. A transparent helmet crystalized over her face, with a small gaps at the edges to allow her to breath. She lifted Sasuke's chin in her hand and a similar one appeared to shield his face. She hefted him over her shoulders. A thin sheet of crystal was extruded from the heavier wall of the dome. It did not reflect only her own face; rather, the village from below and the howling sandstorm could be seen through it, as if through a window. She stepped into the crystal. The stone prison opened like a flower bud as she and Sasuke disappeared.

-ooo-

Naruto whipped around at the sound of the crystal dome splitting and disintegrating, his traitorous teacher momentarily forgotten. Everything in his sight was tinted red. Sasuke was gone. Orochimaru standing over his mother, blood coursing over her face. All of his senses were keen as knives, but the warnings Itachi was calling frantically to him seemed far, far away.

Nothing could hurt as much as that sight, nothing in all four corners of the world. He felt his will to hold the demon back begin to melt and dribble away like steel in a blast furnace. The paving stones beneath him heated and split with a chorus of cracks.

A third tail uncoiled beside the first two.

He thrust two clawed hands of chakra at Orochimaru, screaming, trying to tear him in half. He avoided the swipe with little room to spare. A hail of senbon from one of Sasori's puppets struck next, all of which slowed to a stop as they entered the viscous chakra shroud. It squeezed them out again and every needle tinkled to the ground before the tips could pierce Naruto's skin.

He raised his head in a roar of pure anguish that shattered every window in the street before him. Orochimaru countered it with a wall of wind, coasting to safety and dropping out of its range. The remaining puppets hovering above the rooftops were reduced woodchips by the shockwave. Itachi summoned Susanō's ribcage in midair and was blown far from the battlefield, finally striking a tower almost a hundred meters away.

Only a tiny part of Naruto's mind registered that he'd accidentally struck his brother as well. It was carried off and silenced by the Kyūbi before its protests could grow too loud. He dashed to where Orochimaru had come to rest, desperate to rend the man limb from limb. Sasori had joined him, landing in front of his partner. The final member of Orochimaru's personal guard had slithered out of hiding as well. Her skin was unnaturally darkened, like the others, and she clutched a metal flute in one hand. Standing behind here were three ogres, all blind and with their mouths sewn shut. She brought the instrument to her lips and the threads split as transparent worms oozed free. They surged ravenously toward Naruto, pinning him for a moment as they gorged themselves on the chakra shroud.

"We're wasting time," Sasori snapped at Orochimaru. "Kill Naruto so we can–"

A bubble of light appeared in the midst of Sasori's chest, and his body went limp as every string controlling it was severed at once, silencing the protest. He hit the ground with a clatter. The chakra threads probed the barrier in vain, sparking like a plasma lamp.

Orochimaru lowered his hand and the seals burning azure on his fingertips were extinguished. "On the contrary," Orochimaru said, kicking the defenseless Sasori on to his back. "I am finally _finished_ wasting my time. I did rather enjoy our conversations, I admit, but letting me watch you maintain your spare bodies was quite poor judgment on your part. I've gotten what I needed from Akatsuki."

The chakra-devouring worms were shuddering and squirming, and one after another they burst like overfilled balloons. The ogres were swept away in a whirl of smoke. Freed of them, Naruto struck at Orochimaru again. Mizuki avoided it but the redhead, who was closer, did not; her scream was suspended as Naruto swiped his talons across her chest.

Orochimaru opened his mouth wide and a tsunami of snakes rushed forward to restrain him. The stink of burning flesh and scales consumed the battlefield. It didn't take long for the snakes to char to ash and Naruto to struggle free again, but by that time Orochimaru and Mizuki were gone. The fox's keen nose caught their scent, and he traced it across the rooftops to the edge of the village. He launched himself up and burst over the cliff top with only three bounds, and took off into the oncoming storm. The scent trail was shredding under the onslaught of the wind.

If he did not find Orochimaru now, kill him now, the chance would be lost, and Sasuke… and Sasuke…

The smoke rising from the village was a distant plume. His legs had carried him far from the depression in the plateau–far enough. At first he was unsure how to bring himself to the dark place of his own desire, but the Kyūbi sensed his surrender and the question was swiftly answered. Within moments a drop of cold water struck his head, then another, and, as if reality were a sheet of tissue paper, he'd torn through the sand into the hallways tunneling through his subconscious. He unbent from the crouch before the golden gates. The demon was waiting with a terrifying grin pinned to its muzzle.

"You can see what I see?" he asked it. His heart felt heavy, like the weight of a swinging pendulum.

"Yes," it said.

"Then you know why I'm here. I can't let him take Sasuke. I _can't_."

"I know," it said. Anticipation thrilled down its spine and across all nine tails. "You care for him as you care for no other soul."

Naruto swallowed. "Could you defeat Orochimaru? Will you give me that much power?"

"Yes. Oh, _yes_," it breathed, and the words dissolved in thundering of water.

The torrent flowed out from the bars of the cage, shimmering as beautiful and deadly as quicksilver. He felt it seep into his skin, an intoxicating, scorching, terrifying power, everything he had expected and then more. The shining liquid kept rising–past his knees, his thighs, his waist.

And it showed no signs of slowing. He splashed backward as he realized he would be drowned at this rate, but it was pouring across the bars so fast his toes were lifted from the stone floor before he could flounder to a handhold. It rose in a wave, suddenly reversing direction, and he tumbled across the threshold. The Kyūbi's hand darted out to grab him. He thrashed against its fist as it squeezed the breath from his chest.

"Let… go of–" he gasped.

It raised its claw and placed the tip beneath Naruto's chin. "I knew it would be one of your family to undo you. You love more deeply than any vessel I have ever had. But you see, you see… bonds that strong drive people to such foolishness." He drew Naruto deeper into the blackness of its prison. "Before accepting any gifts from demons, the wise would first ask the price."

-ooo-

Gently, ever so gently, Itachi turned his mother on her side. Her chest still rose and fell in steady time, but she showed no response to his touch. "Ka-san…" he whispered with desperate urgency. "_Wake up_."

Nothing. She didn't stir. He swiped the blood from his cheeks with the back of his hand and summoned Hyōkurō. The scarred black cat landed and immediately arched his back, agitated by the acrid smoke. His slitted green eyes widened as he swallowed the terrible scene.

"Find someone to take care of my mother. Quickly," he ordered. "She hit her head and I can't wake her."

"Don't you want to stay with–" he began.

Itachi unclenched his jaw to speak. "Sasuke and Naruto are gone. If I don't follow Orochimaru now…"

The cat opened his mouth only to shut it again, dipped his head in understanding, and dashed toward the arena to find help.

Itachi spared only a glance at Sasori's body, which was dim to his sharingan. He was lying face down, mostly buried in the rubble and dead snakes. His coat had blown away and the scroll holders attached to his back were empty. Itachi could see a sliver of a ring of fuinjutsu that had been burned into his upper back; it was plain he had not died by Naruto's hands. He'd spoken of many betrayals, before he died, and both the kages he had killed had been cruel men. Monstrous though his acts had been, Itachi wasn't sure he deserved to die by one more breach of trust.

The advancing sandstorm gulped down the sunlight as it finally hit the outskirts of Sunagakure. He could still sense the mingling of Naruto and the Kyūbi's chakra, so bright it blistered his senses. Where he found Naruto, he would find Orochimaru, and where he found Orochimaru, he would soon find Sasuke. Itachi sprinted to the uneven stair of rubble that led up to the plateau. Traveling through a storm this dense verged on insanity, but it wasn't as if he had a choice.

Lightning cracked the dry air, without the promise of rain. The detection barrier stretched over the hollow in which Sunagakure rested began to whisper with sand. The particles striking the thin membrane of chakra lit it up like a sky dense with stars.

Itachi hastily pulled some fabric free from one of the destroyed souvenir stands, wet it in the public fountain, and tied the cloth tightly around his nose and mouth. From his supply scrolls he pulled out a pair of goggles and a compass, then took quick stock of his supply of drinking water–finding Naruto and Sasuke would be pointless if he couldn't lead them back to civilization before all three of them died of exposure. Satisfied in his preparations, he made his way up to the lip of the wall and pushed through the barrier.

The sand was a blinding storm of needles, but as long as he didn't inhale much or allow it to spin about his sense of direction, it wouldn't kill him. He didn't need his eyes to follow Naruto's trail. He moved as quickly as he dared with visibility reduced to only a few meters. Dusk had settled at high noon.

Heat, thirst, exhaustion, pain… they lost all meaning as he labored across the immense, darkened stretch of stone and sand. After a stretch of time he could not measure, he felt the mire of the dunes sucking at his feet begin to solidify as the landscape changed. It became rockier and more treacherous, threatening to trip him at every step. The beacon he followed had slowed and then stopped, growing stronger with the shrinking distance. It meant one of two things–Orochimaru was dead, and Naruto could not force the Kyūbi to quiescence again, or he had lost the Sannin's trail.

Either answer chilled him to the core.

The wind had finally begun to slacken and the sun returned to its rightful seat above Itachi's head–the storm had been violent, but quickly spent. He pulled off the improvised protective gear and tried to blink away the dust as a great valley spread out before him.

The presence in the air scraped across his chakra sense like a blade against bone. It was horribly familiar; he would never forget that sensation as long as he lived.

Naruto–the creature that he had become–finally revealed itself from behind a ridge below. It was crouched like a beast, four tails undulating above its head. The breeze shifted. Catching his scent, the creature turned to face him. Fingers had become claws, kind blue eyes two pits of white light. Its skin glowed red, cracking and reforming like a lava flow. It opened its mouth to roar and Itachi saw a whirlwind of chakra gather inside of its throat. Itachi flickered away from the destruction it blasted into the cliff.

"Naruto! It's me! Stop this, _please_! _PLEASE_!" Itachi called, skidding down the rock to the valley bottom.

The long ears twitched, but he gave no indication he comprehended the desperate plea. Instead, a third hand emerged from behind Naruto's right shoulder and stretched impossibly long to try to tear a gouge in Itachi's chest. His sharingan was trained to follow the movements of the human form, bound to the laws of muscle and bone. The Kyūbi was not, a creation of pure energy who could twist its limbs into any form and length it chose. He could barely see where the chakra cloak would strike before it moved to do so. He enveloped his fragile human skin in Susanō one final time; his muscles had finally reached their limits and he was so tired he couldn't keep up with that demonic speed.

His limbs leaden with exhaustion, it was everything Itachi could do to stay one step ahead of the Kyūbi's indiscriminate rage. Words didn't loosen the stranglehold it had on Naruto by even a fraction. What the boy had feared so greatly had come to pass. When the fourth tail had sprouted, he had crossed the point of no return.

He dodged and deflected the lashing of its multiple limbs as best he could. If Itachi could not drag Naruto back across the threshold of awareness himself, they were both going to die. He couldn't trust even the Yata Mirror to repulse a bijūdama if he allowed the Kyūbi the opportunity to create one, and he probably didn't have much time until the next tail began to manifest. The Sandaime Hokage had briefed him very thoroughly on the limitations of the Shiki Fūjin seal. Each successive tail breaking through wore it away that much more, like a cracking shelf of snow becomes an avalanche. If Naruto manifested the full nine tails, he, the vessel, would shatter, and to restrain the demon it would have to be resealed into another jinchūriki. His body and mind would be irretrievably, irrevocably gone.

Every instinct Itachi possessed told him to run. Instead, he lured it away from the open ground, nearer the mountainside. Madara had been able to control the Kyūbi at nine tails, if only for a brief period. He would have to take on four. With one last burst of speed, Itachi charged and slapped Naruto into the mountainside with the Susanō's outstretched hands. Their eyes locked, whirling red to glowing white.

-ooo-

Itachi was ripped from the familiar mindscape of the infinite plain before it had a chance to coalesce around him. He felt himself slide through the surface of freezing, scummy water and his feet strike hard against something too solid and even to be a riverbed.

The Tsukuyomi had succeeded only partially. He'd been pulled into Naruto's mindscape instead of Naruto into his. The shock forced the breath from his lungs, and he choked for a moment in panic before he realized his chest wasn't burning with a need for air. He drew in another lungful of the water, willing himself to breath it, as if in a dream. At Itachi's command the liquid filling the corridor disappeared. He had at least some control over this place, even if it wasn't his own.

He was in a long corridor reminiscent of the deepest levels of ANBU headquarters. The strongest, most well-sealed prison cells in Konoha were located there. Naruto had never seen them, but... yes, yes he had. He would have been taken here the night he'd been born, while Jiraiya determined if his father's seal would hold. It would have been one of the very first things the Kyūbi had seen through his new vessel's eyes.

At the end of the corridor he could see an orange glow reflected on the slick stones, and he could hear Naruto sobbing. The hallway opened into a high-ceilinged room split by an ornate gate. Behind that gate was the Kyūbi… and his brother, curled up within its grasp.

The enormity of Naruto's task struck him more deeply than it ever had before. It was his will, a _child's will_, that had held this creature back when Orochimaru had dilated his seal. Before today, Itachi had only seen the Kyūbi's true body from a distance, with the eyes of a little boy. It pulled him back into the past, when he was only a genin–frightened, helpless–as he sprinted to the emergency shelters with a screaming infant Sasuke clutched against his chest.

"Those eyes..." the Kyūbi said, in mock fright, as Itachi approached the gates. "No, you're no Madara." Its toothy maw split into a leer. A bubbling simulacrum of itself flowed around the bars, hissing and popping and filling the air with a volcanic, sulfurous stench. "Your face is so close, but you're nothing like him! You stink of terror, Uchiha Itachi!"

"You will release my brother to me," Itachi said.

"My vessel?" the Kyūbi said lazily. Its unsettlingly human fingers tightening around Naruto's body. "Oh, I see. You truly love this child, don't you? How _pathetic_. Your forefather loathed his younger brother, the Senju, and all their spawn with such virtuosity it impressed even me. You are a disgrace to his bloodline."

"The mistakes of my ancestors are not my destiny, and my will is my own," Itachi said evenly. "You will do as I've command you. Return him to me."

Laughter echoed about the chamber. "I will do no such thing, boy."

Itachi raised his hand and tightened his fist on the tip of the false Kyūbi's muzzle. The bubbling simulacrum exploded backward from the black nose and a shudder went through its true body. It snarled in vexation as its fingers began to uncurl. Its eyes changed to mirror Itachi's own. With excruciating slowness, the hand clutching Naruto extended through the bars and tilted. Naruto tumbled free and Itachi caught him in his arms. He immediately backed away from the thing's reach when the slit pupils returned to its eyes.

Freed of it, Naruto stirred. "Nii-chan? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I lost him."

Words had failed. His brother felt so heavy in his arms Itachi dropped to his knees. Then they fell, and fell, and fell, and fell.

-ooo-

From over a scattering of rubble, Naruto began to moan, then sob, then scream. Itachi's eyes felt like rounds of red-hot steel, and his face was covered in blood. It was streaming from his eyes, his nose, down the back of his throat. His sharingan had left him.

"Here! Over here!" a voice called, which his swimming wits belatedly recognized as Kakashi's. "I found them!"

He was rolled onto his back and two shapes blotted out the sun, one trimmed in rose pink and the other in silver. Another shape in ANBU white and slate gray, with a curtain of violet hair, knelt down beside Naruto. Their faces were a blur. The price of the Mangekyō sharingan had been paid in full. He was all but blind.

"Oh no…" Yūgao whispered, and her voice shot high in horror. "Naruto's burned over almost his entire… Kakashi-sempai, for god's sake get your sharingan over here and put him under!"

The blur with the blue and silver halo left his side. Naruto fell mercifully silent as Kakashi nudged him into oblivion. Yūgao had served as his ANBU team's field medic; a soft thrumming drifted across the battlefield as she began treating his brother's terrible burns. Sakura lifted his head and dribbled some water across his lips. "Here, Sensei, swallow. Are you hurt?"

He'd overused Susanō–he could feel it in every cell in his body–but that was not a pain Sakura could ameliorate. "No," he said. His throat was so dry that single word came out cracked. She helped him sit up and thrust her water bottle into his hands, the contents of which he sucked down as quickly as his tongue would allow him. The sun had slipped low in the sky since he'd departed from Sunagakure.

"Itachi, it looks like this place was hit by a meteor," Kakashi said, coming to kneel by him again. "What happened? Did Naruto lose…?"

"Yes," Itachi whispered. "By the time I found him, four tails had broken through. How did you find us?"

"Thank Sakura," Kakashi answered. "She and Genma found me and reported what'd happened. She led Cat and me through the storm following the Kyūbi's chakra signature, just like I'm guessing you did. By the time it fizzled out, it had mostly blown over and Pakkun got us the rest of the way."

"Take care of Naruto. This isn't finished yet," Itachi said. He pushed Sakura aside to stand shakily and reactivated his sharingan. Even that tiny drain upon his chakra reserves left him awash in dizziness. "I have to find Sas—" he took a step forward and stumbled over a loose stone.

Kakashi caught and steadied him, and did not let his arm go when Itachi tried to pull away. With his other hand, he forced Itachi's chin up until to their eyes met. "The tomoe are... you've gone blind." Kakashi let his hand drop and Itachi looked away, letting his blighted dōjutsu fade away. "You're _blind_. I'm not letting you–"

"Let me _GO_!" Itachi snarled. "Orochimaru is getting farther away with every second I waste here."

"Are you out of your mind?" Kakashi asked, without any anger, only bewilderment, and didn't release his grip. "Cat and I can't take him on ourselves, and you're so weak you can barely stand. Even if you could catch him, even if my pack could pick up a trail that _does not exist _after that maelstrom, you fighting Orochimaru like this is nothing less than suicide."

"He. Took. _Sasuke_," Itachi said, clipping every word apart and dropping it before him as if Kakashi had suddenly lost the ability to comprehend all but the simplest speech. "If you are not going to help me, let me go. I thought you, of all people, would understand that I am not abandoning one of my comrades to die."

Kakashi bit down on his lips behind the mask. "Neither am I," he said softly. "I don't expect you to forgive me for this."

Without any other warning, Kakashi jerked him upright and caught his gaze in his own sharingan. Beyond exhausted and stripped of his strongest defense against it, Itachi felt himself sliding down into the unnatural sleep. He fought it–he fought it like mad–but Kakashi was fresh and strong just as unwilling to relent.

"I'm sorry, Itachi," he whispered, catching his best friend just as he pitched forward, boneless. "You can hate me if you want to… but you mean too much to too many people, and I am not going to let you kill yourself."


	22. Chapter 22

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 22 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The stars were streaming past Sasuke's eyes. He was immobilized on a slab of crystal, his hands, feet, and lower face bound into the matrix. Every surface was slick with condensation that chilled him in the cool desert night, and his calf throbbed where the snake's fangs had sunk in during his confrontation with Orochimaru. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious. Hours at least… maybe half a day. He didn't bother asking the woman in green that ran beside the crystal litter where she was taking him. He could guess.<p>

They finally came to a stop when dawn cracked through the eastern sky. As the temperature began to rise, Guren turned down a dry riverbed and took shelter in the shallow cave she found there. The slab of quartz melted into the ground as she set him down, and the face mask retracted, but his wrists and ankles remained encircled in heavy shackles that made it almost impossible for him to move them.

"Open your mouth," she ordered, crouching in front of him and producing a long, round container. "It's water."

He did as she asked and gulped it down, warm, stale, and unsatisfying as it was. He let the last mouthful linger on his tongue and spat it at her when she looked down to recap the bottle. "Rot in hell," he croaked.

The woman only rolled her eyes and brushed the liquid from her hair. She fused the manacles she'd created to the rocky floor and settled her back against the cave wall to steal a little sleep. Sasuke considered trying to deprive her of it, but his throat was still too dry and sore to speak much, and she was too far away to kick, as much as he wanted to.

He sat and stewed in the intensifying heat. Thoughts he could barely bring himself to acknowledge were rising in a scummy film to the top of his mind. The luminous warriors and their incredible power. The Uchiha eyes. Itachi's eyes. His mother's eyes_. _His mother's _silence._

He felt a sob plow through his defenses and he forced it back, hastily replacing the battered mental barricades. He wasn't crying in front of that _woman_.

Itachi had told him what the Mangekyō sharingan meant. To gain it, an Uchiha must turn upon someone they dearly loved–betray them to their death–and deliver the blow by their own hand. He missed Uchiha Fugaku more keenly than ever, only now it was tangled up in a hideous snarl of anger. How could his mother have done such a thing? And how could his father have pushed her so mercilessly she'd been forced to commit the crime? What could he have forced her to choose between?

His head sank lower against his chest. As soon he asked the question, he knew the answer.

It was for _him_. And for Itachi. And for all the children of Konoha, the small, green fruit whom she could not bear to see blighted by war before they reached the ripe blushing of maturity. A mother's love–such a beautiful, frightening thing it was.

He began to nod off, drained, but came instantly awake at the sound of footsteps outside their hollow. Guren rose and stretched out her shoulders without concern; it must be another Otogakure shinobi. The guess was confirmed with a lanky man dressed head-to-toe in shades of gray, with only a figure-eight around his eyes and the tips of his fingers visible, appeared at the cave mouth. Guren left the shelter to speak with him, and from outside there was a rush of smoke and the sound of great wingbeats.

Guren ducked back inside and freed the restraints fused to the floor. Those about his ankles cracked and fell off. She pulled him to his feet, and his injured leg nearly gave way at the pain of putting weight on the inflamed tissue. "You're not outrunning me like that. Don't bother trying," she said, and dragged him out of the shade and to the switchback trail that led up the canyon wall.

Three more of her human allies and five huge, brown vultures with tattered ruffs about their necks were shuffling in the sand. There were harnesses strapped around their chests, with a saddle on top just large enough for one or two people to ride. The nearest looked at him without much curiosity and snapped its beak lethargically. The smell emanating from its mouth almost made him gag.

Guren left his side and there was a creak of leather as she settled herself in the saddle. The two tallest of her new companions lifted Sasuke in front of her, his wrists still bound. She strapped him and then herself into the harness. A whistle from one of the men and the birds labored to their feet. He was jostled against Guren's chin as it trotted to the edge of the cliff and launched itself into the air.

The sensation would have been extraordinary had the circumstances of the flight not been so grim. The whole of the desert spread out beneath them, painted in rust, sage, and ochre. After many kilometers the land tipped up, and the vultures wrung more altitude from their mighty wings to sail across the line of mountains that was Wind Country's eastern border. A front of cooler, moister air met them on the other side, and Sasuke shivered as they swooped down across the marshlands of River Country.

Then that eventually turned too, becoming less wild and broken by the dozens of overlapping threads of water. They left the many rivers behind and passed into a lush quilt of rice paddies in every shade of green imaginable. Sasuke felt his heart clench. This was Fire Country. This was _home_.

The desire to pitch himself from the saddle and fall into that swathe of green welled up in his mind. Maybe it would be better to die on his home soil than grant Konoha's greatest enemy his body and his eyes. His muscles tensed, shuddered, and then slowly relaxed. Soon, maybe, but not yet. As long as there was the slightest chance he could free himself, he wasn't ready to abandon his life.

Guren and her team ate their lunch on the wing (she did not offer Sasuke any), and they only took to ground again when the sky had gone truly dark. The Oto shinobi shared a cold meal and then spread out their bedrolls on the moss beneath a redwood, deep in the backcountry. They made no fire; they must still be in enemy territory and it would have been too risky. Guren took scrupulous care to keep his hands and feet weighed down with crystal manacles and gave him not even the hint of an opportunity for escape.

They were back in the saddle at first light and soon left Fire Country behind. The line between it and Rice was not a sharp one. It was in the subtle details–there were fewer people on the country roads, more abandoned farmhouses, more fields left fallow to become overrun with weeds. It had once been nearly as prosperous as its larger neighbor, but it had very abruptly fallen upon harder times.

The birds descended for the last time into a steep-sided valley crowned in mist and pines. Emerging from the side of the mountain, like the hole in worm-eaten apple, was a dark tunnel trimmed in weather-beaten pillars. He was pulled roughly from the saddle and the vultures were dismissed.

Guren shoved him into the yawning maw. It swallowed the natural light only a few steps in, and when the doors shut behind them there was a buzz as the electric lights flickered alive to illuminate the entranceway of the base. Someone was coming to meet them, a girl or young boy by the lightness of the gait.

Her face was familiar, her untidy crimson hair even more so. He remembered her in nighttime, in a forest… and then the memory squirmed away.

"Karin, is the sealing chamber prepared?" Guren asked her. "And the cell?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said deferentially, bowing to the older woman. "Um, where's Tayuya and Sakon and–"

"His bodyguards didn't make it."

The girl stiffened slightly but otherwise gave no reaction to the news. "This way, please," she murmured.

Karin. _Now_ he remembered. The soot obscuring the memory was scrubbed away as he delved deeper. She was the one who'd lured him away from the river during the aborted second stage of Konoha's exams, and then Orochimaru…

"I was honestly offering to help you back in the Forest of Death, you backstabbing bitch," he spat at her back as they walked. "I hope you're proud of yourself."

She glanced over her shoulder and tore her eyes away just as quickly. To Sasuke's shock she looked genuinely remorseful. Not remorseful enough to do anything about his current predicament, however. She led them down the dank maze and into a high-ceilinged room. It was lit by torchlight and the violet glow of a powerful sealing barrier. The inscription itself had been painted in a ring on the floor. It gave off the foul scent of ink and rancid blood.

"When the second stage transformation is complete, clean him up, get the medical team to check him over, and put him in cell 9A, max security wing. I'll need some of his blood to renew the summoning contract with a new host. _Everything_ _about him_ must be perfect and ready for when Orochimaru-sama returns. Is that clear?" she asked Karin, who nodded demurely. She then turned to one of the faceless attendants. "In the unlikely event he doesn't make it, the medical staff will extract the sharingan. Burn the body. I will be taking his place as the next vessel. You're dismissed." After the men departed, she took a bottle from the shelves bolted to the wall and tipped a single pill into her palm.

"Swallow," Guren ordered Sasuke.

Sasuke clamped his jaw together as tightly as he could, glaring every insult he couldn't speak with his crimson eyes. At her command, more crystal surged up from the floor, pinning him in place. He struggled against it as it crept up his legs and torso, finally locking around his head. Guren handed the pill to Karin. She pinched his nostrils shut until black started to creep into the corners of his vision, and he was forced to open his mouth. Her other hands darted in to pry his jaw open, and, reluctantly, Karin dropped the thing down his throat. He tried to spit it back in her face, but Guren clapped her gloved hand over his mouth before he could. It dissolved quickly on his tongue, painfully bitter. His mouth and throat began to burn, and he swallowed before he could stop himself. When the first mouthful of drug-laced saliva hit his stomach that started to burn too, as did the seal imprinted on his wrist. The crystal arched upward and tossed him inside the barrier's light.

"When Itachi finds you, he'll–" he gasped.

"I doubt it," Guren said disparagingly. "The blond moron lost control of the Kyūbi, just like Orochimaru-sama predicted. Your brothers are probably dead by now."

"Liar!" he growled. "_Liar_!" The pain in his stomach was getting so bad he could barely stand.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and turned on her heels with a smirk, leaving him at the edge of the barrier.

Karin moved to follow her, only to pause at the ornate double doors. "I wish I… I really am sorry it turned out like this, Sasuke-kun," she whispered. Her hand slipped down to the knob and it shut with a heavy scrape.

There was no longer any need to hide his weakness, and at this point it was a losing battle anyway. He folded over the sharp pains in his belly and slumped over on the cold floor.

-ooo-

"That boy," Orochimaru announced, wheezing in the dry air, "consistently proves himself to be more trouble than expected. To think he would be able to muster that much power out of only four tails."

"We _did_ finally lose him," Mizuki said, as he scanned the mirages shimmering up from the dunes. The river grumbling below barely provided any relief from the heat.

"Not quickly enough," Orochimaru said under his breath. He let his back slide down the rock formation that provided the only shade in kilometers and swept aside his sleeve. The triple seal he had painted across the remnant of Mito's attack was failing. The first two bars had faded to a smudge of gray on his wrist, and the decay had nearly chewed through the last. He winced as, while he watched in morbid fascination, it gave way completely. The veins blackened and collapsed within seconds as the fuinjutsu she had laid on him chewed up into his shoulder. "This is a losing battle, it seems," he said to himself. "Mito, you clever old fox."

He let his sleeve fall back down and looked up at Mizuki with a hungry light in his eyes. "You betrayed your closest friend to win my favor. You would do anything I ask of you?"

"Of course, Orochimaru-sama," Mizuki answered immediately.

"Then kneel." He gestured with his good arm and the pale-haired man came closer. His mouth cocked in a cruel smile, and suddenly they were in the desert heat no more.

The sky hard gone coal black. Mizuki recoiled in disgust as his hands and feet sank into something soft and slimy with mucus. He struggled back upright, ready to run, but a white thing rose from the pulsating ground to bar his way. It was all moving, hundreds and hundreds of white snakes all slithering in time to form a larger whole. The head was lifted last, retaining only smallest vestiges of Orochimaru's humanity.

"You promised me–" Mizuki began, only to be cut off when a single snake peeled free to gag him.

Orochimaru's forked tongue flicked out between his teeth as he looped a coil over Mizuki's torso. "I've promised many people many things, Mizuki-kun," he said patronizingly. "You're a second-rate schoolteacher with an overinflated sense of his own importance. The curse seals have a ninety percent failure rate. Those I choose to bestow them upon are useful–and powerful–but ultimately expendable. There is a reason I never branded Kabuto or Guren with one, you know."

He laid another coil around Mizuki's shoulders, so his gaping mouth was just beside his ear. "And really, it's never a good idea to trust an ambitious traitor. They make terrible underlings. I ought to know."

The ruined body suddenly collapsed and slumped over beside the pillar of rock. The modifications Orochimaru had made to it shriveled up like burning paper, leaving behind a husk wearing the face of a young woman. Her eyes were open, staring frozen in horror–and she was still breathing. She moaned wordlessly as the infection of Mito's seal crept up her neck, across her face. Her back arched as it ate through her skull and into her brain, sending her into a fit of seizures. Finally–mercifully–the seal claimed her brainstem, and with it her breathing and her heartbeat.

From his new eyes, Orochimaru watched dispassionately as the convulsions decreased in intensity and her body went still.

He flexed his fingers and then ran them up and down the new body's arms, inhaling air greedily into the healthy lungs. "It's only three years, I suppose. I could certainly have done worse."

Delicately, so as not to touch the skin, he collected the lapis earrings from his former host and nudged the corpse over the ledge with the sole of his sandal. It bobbed up once in the rushing water and disappeared. He turned away, but stopped for a moment. It was only to pull off the Konoha hitai-ate and toss it in after her.

-ooo-

When Sasuke came to, he found he'd been moved to another room. It had a barred door that gave him a view of the rough stone wall opposite and nothing else. But the air wasn't completely still, and there was a very faint pattering of rain coming from nearby. His cell had no windows, however, and contained only a sink, a toilet, and a metal bedframe. He threw the blanket off and tried to get up, finding that he could as long as he kept a steadying hand against the wall.

There was a chunk of time missing between when Karin shoved that pill down his throat and the present–what felt like days. It was filled with sensations, mostly, all of them extremely unpleasant. The feeling of something bursting through the skin of his shoulders was the worst. Whether or not that had really happened he wasn't sure, but his old clothes were gone and had been replaced with a pair of faded pants. There was also a tattoo on his left arm that hadn't been there before, a heavily stylized snake curling from his wrist to his elbow. It had already mostly healed, and was only slightly pink at the edges. He probed the snakebite on his calf with his fingers. The ache and the swelling had gone, barely leaving a scar. That could only have been the result of medical ninjutsu. Pretty good medical ninjutsu, too.

He crossed to the door to inspect the lock and hinges, activating his sharingan for a better view. The construction was solid steel, and a complex lattice of chakra was pulsing through the gaps between the bars. He touched it experimentally and recoiled when an electrical spark snapped at his fingertip. He sat back and sighed shakily. He was coming down to the wire. If he wanted to keep himself out of Orochimaru's hands, he would have to find some way, very soon, to take his own life.

"Is someone there?" a voice called from slightly down the hall. It was male, hesitant, and smooth enough the speaker was probably only a little older than Sasuke himself. It was coming through the window, too, which meant he was probably in a neighboring cell—another prisoner.

"Ah," Sasuke said cautiously.

"I thought so. I heard them bring you in. You were supposed to be the new vessel."

"What do you mean 'supposed to be'?" Sasuke asked, shooting to his feet.

"Orochimaru-sama had to take a new host during the journey back. He was hurt too bad to make it here. That's what Karin said, at least." The other boy cleared his throat and continued shyly over the silence of Sasuke's overwhelming relief. "It's been a long time since I've had anyone to talk to–a really, really, really long time. Orochimaru-sama doesn't come to see me much anymore. Oh, and I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Jūgo. What's your name?"

"Uchiha Sasuke," he offered. "Why are you being so polite when you talk about him?" he asked, puzzled. "He locked you up in here, didn't he?"

"Only because I begged him to," Jūgo explained. "I... I hurt people. I've even killed people. I don't mean to–I don't even eat meat if I can avoid it. But there's something inside me, something horrible and powerful and so, _so _angry, and when it comes out, I… I can't stop it. I wake up and there's just... there's blood _everywhere_." His voice cracked, as if he were about to start crying. "Everyone hates me. You'd hate me too, if you knew what I've done, but I wanted to take the chance to talk to you a little before you started."

Sasuke set his jaw, wincing a little in sympathy and longing. The thought that he might never see Naruto again tumbled down and lodged in the back of his throat. "You sound a lot like someone I know."

"Really?" Jūgo asked, surprised at the gentleness in his tone. "Who?"

"My younger brother."

"My family, they… threw me out of the village when I was six–when the rages started. I had an older sister I've never seen since. That was almost a decade ago. I don't think she misses me," Jūgo said sadly. "But you two must have been close."

"Yeah," Sasuke agreed. "He's kind of annoying sometimes–a lot of the time–but he's probably one of the most loyal people I've ever known. He'd do anything for me. And even though he ended up with… with this thing inside of him, a thing that killed uncles and grandparents I never got the chance to meet, I don't hate him. I could never. Being around him–I don't know why–it makes you feel like no matter how many terrible things have happened in it, the world is still a good place."

Jūgo sighed, and then said wistfully, "I don't think there are many people like you in the world, Sasuke-san. Maybe, if I'd known someone like you when I was little, or like him, my life would've…"

Sasuke felt a tiny chuckle bubble up, just a quick exhalation of breath. "I did the math, and you're older than I am. Just 'Sasuke' is fine, without the '-san'."

"Oh… well…" Jūgo mumbled, considering it. "I think I'd still like to stick with Sasuke-san, if it's all the same to you."

-ooo-

When Sasuke awoke the next morning, the base was rustling with activity. He could hear it echoing up and down the halls. Karin reappeared with a tray of tea and breakfast, which she slid under the bars. "You'll have to eat fast, Sasuke-kun," she said, readjusting her glasses to avoid looking him in the eye. "Sorry. Busy day. Orochimaru isn't here, if you were, um… wondering."

"Mind explaining why Jūgo doesn't get any breakfast?" he asked archly, crossing his arms over his chest as he lounged in the bed.

"Oh _no_," Jūgo breathed, from in the other cell. "It's moving day, isn't it."

"It's moving day," Karin said with resignation.

"Don't worry about me, Sasuke-san," he said. "I'm not hungry. Really."

Karin departed hastily to attend to whatever preparations she'd been assigned, leaving to Sasuke eat. If Orochimaru was going to all the trouble of _moving _him somewhere, with his own mind still safely ensconced in his skull, he probably wasn't in any immediate danger. And for prison food, the tray looked and smelled incredibly appetizing. Like homemade, even. He briefly considered refusing to eat, but he was, he discovered, starving, and there were more efficient ways to restrain shinobi prisoners than drugging their food.

"All right… what's moving day?" he asked, between bites of toast. He could hear Jūgo pacing up and down the length of his cell, dragging what sounded like an actual ball-and-chain weight behind him.

"Moving bases. Piling everything up in carts and _moving them somewhere else_, which means I have to _go outside_. No bars, no stone walls, no locks, no shackles…" He paused to attempt to settle his breathing. "So they put me under, chain me up, and hope I won't wake up and massacre everybody."

"Put you under with what?"

"Horse tranquilizers."

Sasuke choked on his tea.

"I know, I know!" Jūgo moaned. "I wish there was something stronger, but the medics wouldn't give it to me because they said I'd stop breathing."

After a few more wholly unsuccessful attempts to reassure him, Sasuke gave up and left his new friend to pickle in his anxiety. Karin reappeared to collect the tray, along with Guren and a man in a white medic's coat. Without explanation or warning, Guren filled the cell with her crystals to immobilize him, which ate down his arms and legs and left only his head and chest bare. Only then did she open the door. A tiny section of crystal over his left elbow peeled back and the Oto medical ninja injected something into the vein, then, while he was still trapped, the man painted a very complicated seal around his heart, front and back. Sasuke winced as it activated; if the quartz formations hadn't been supporting his body he probably would have fallen to the ground. The fatigue and dizziness were overwhelming, like he'd been only just emerged from a nasty bout with the flu.

They'd sealed his chakra–Guren wasn't taking any chances. She bound his eyes with a strip of black cloth, and his wrists and ankles with cuffs and metal chain, and then finally led him out into the sunshine. She wasn't stupid, he'd give her that much.

He was shoved into the back of a short wagon piled with crates, and the restraints were locked to the metal rings studding the side. Some kind of canopy was thrown over it, muffling the preparations buzzing outside and the restless shuffling of the oxen. Eventually the cart shuddered into motion. The day grew warmer, and beneath the thick fabric Sasuke drifted in and out of a doze. The hazy dreams were filled with crystal and snakes.

-ooo-

A scream and an explosion shocked him out of unconsciousness. The oxen began lowing in terror, and the driver of the cart in which he was chained was matching them in bellowed curses. The whole thing jumped forward, lurched, and then rolled to a stop when the panicking animals were loosed. The shouting outside was all a jumble, although he could pick out a single name, spat out in hatred and fear.

Jūgo had been right. Whatever they'd doped him with _hadn't_ been enough.

There was the crackle of rapidly crystalizing quartz and then another shattering explosion and even more screams. Shards of crystal thunked into the side of the cart, one of which had landed just beside the metal ring he'd been chained to. He tugged hard and found it had damaged the screw hole enough he could pull it free of the wood.

He tore the blindfold off and threw aside the canopy, only to duck back inside as a massive burst of chakra went shrieking towards him. It singed his arms as he threw them up to protect his face; he shoved the pain away and pumped every mote of chakra he could muster into his eyes to activate his sharingan. The cart was grabbed from below, and, his ankles still fettered, he couldn't leap to safety. It was tossed on its side and he threw himself on his stomach to avoid being crush by the heavy crates toppling around him. The contents of one tumbled out and a piece of the steel lab equipment scraped across the back of his knee. He swore as he scrambled away. It wasn't that deep, but it felt like the tendon might have been damaged.

The crystal shrapnel had injured or killed several of the Oto shinobi; those that could flee already had. One painfully unlucky man had been pinned to a tree root by a long shard through his chest–the same one that had sealed his chakra just before they'd embarked, he realized. The blood had slicked the slender quartz formation and was struggling desperately to pull it free.

Jūgo landed on the upturned cart on all fours, a predator literally slavering for his prey. His skin had changed color and strange protuberances on his back had shredded his shirt. The remains clung to his chest, sullied with dirt and splashes of blood. He leapt to the ground again, frenzied with murderous glee. His arm reformed into a massive blacksmith's hammer, ready to splatter Sasuke's brain across the grass.

This was his way out, if he wanted it. The end to his captivity. He just had to close his eyes, and…

"JŪGO_, STOP_!" he screamed, in pure instinct.

His blank gold irises shifted to red, complete with three false tomoe mirroring Sasuke's own. The pebbly gray membrane obscuring his skin receded and fingers emerged from the mass on his right hand. It was a genjutsu compulsion given power by desperate fear, unsubtle and sloppy in its execution–but it had worked. The hammer never fell.

Utterly exhausted, Sasuke released his dōjutsu and let his head fall back on the moss. The sky was cloudless and welcoming, the dappled sunlight gentle on his face. He still wasn't ready to let go of his hope yet. He wasn't ready to kill himself. Maybe it would come to that, but not just yet. Not yet. His family had forfeited so much to keep him safe. He wasn't going to toss their sacrifice away that quickly.

"How many this time… how many did I… how many…?" Jūgo moaned, falling to his hands and knees.

Sasuke forced himself to rise, limping on his injured leg, and draped his arm across the older boy's wide shoulders as best he could with them still bound in chains. "I don't know. But it's going to be okay. I'm not letting this happen to you ever again. Locked up your whole life is no way to live."

The caravan, shocked into stillness, started to reform at Guren's shouted order. Sasuke stayed by Jūgo's side. He was the absolute tallest and one of the most powerfully built people Sasuke had ever met–probably almost two meters without shoes–but he was also one of the most pitifully broken. How lonely he must have been, thrown out of his home and then shut up alone for nearly a decade, starved for any friendly touch.

Two birds twittered overhead, and then, bizarrely, landed before Jūgo's crossed legs without fear. They hopped closer and he reached out with one finger to scratch the tiny heads. They were pretty little songbirds, with a dusting of olive-green on top which faded to beige towards their chests. "So you _did_ decide to come with me," he whispered to them. "Thank you."

"You can talk to birds?" Sasuke asked, looking at the fearless creatures in wonder. Perhaps Jūgo hadn't been so alone after all.

Jūgo shook his head. "Not talk to them–they don't think in human words. It's more like pictures and feelings. And not just birds. All kinds of things. At the last base it was mostly rats. I like rats a lot. They're smart and they'd borrow things for me."

The birds startled and took to the wing at a sudden movement from the loose clump of Oto shinobi. "No… no, no… _Nii-san_!" the smallest cried, shouldering his comrades aside. He dropped beside the wounded man still gasping against a tree trunk. He pulled his own mask off, and then his brother's, and tugged off his belt sash to wipe clean the crystal dagger to pull it free. He was younger than Sasuke expected, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen. The kinship was unmistakable; both had square, tanned faces and dark green hair a shade up from truly black.

The gravely wounded man was already slipping into unconsciousness. His brother pulled him closer, weeping silently, too devastated for shame. It was an outpouring of grief so raw and so close Sasuke felt it chill him to his marrow. What if Guren wasn't lying? What if Itachi was already gone, and he'd never have this chance to say goodbye? All those time when he'd wished Itachi would just disappear, that the shadow Sasuke was doomed to walk behind would fall… he regretted every one of them.

"Why isn't the medic–" one of the other guards began.

"He _was_ the jōnin medic, idiot," said another. "The second group is hours behind us. They'd never make it in time."

"Karin… you can heal him," the boy called. "Please help him. _Please_."

She popped her head over the cart she'd been cowering behind and took a step toward them, and then turned back to Sasuke. "My orders were… only Sasuke-kun was supposed to get–"

Even if she healed his knee, an escape attempt wasn't assured. He was deep in enemy territory without a map, supplies, weapons, or coin, and his chakra was still bound so tightly he was lightheaded. A seal this tight could do permanent, physical damage if it was left on too long, and the chance he would be able to make it back to Konoha before that happened was dismally low.

"Whatever you were going to do, just give it to him," Sasuke said. "I'm not hurt that bad."

Karin came forward, hurrying past Jūgo, and knelt by the two brothers. Her back was to him and he couldn't see exactly what she did, but within seconds the injured man was (albeit shakily, and with help) back on his feet. The guards left the nonessential, nonperishable supplies hidden in the rocks and continued on with whatever transports could be salvaged.

When they stopped to make camp for the night, the Oto shinobi who brought him a bowl of soup and checked his restraints lingered just a bit longer than was strictly necessary. "I don't know why you decided to do it, but thank you," he whispered to Sasuke. "I won't forget this, I swear. I don't know how yet, but I _will_ find a way to repay you for giving me my brother back."

-ooo-

The wind carried on it billowing clouds and the tang of salt, and when they crested the hill Sasuke was graced with his first sight of the ocean. More Oto shinobi met them at the port–the town was overrun with them–and he was hustled into a junk and chained below decks before he had the chance to fully absorb the water's majesty.

The journey was a swift one, and they disembarked on a small island dominated by tall, irregular pillars of iron-rich stone. A castle had been tucked into the formations. He was marched up the beach and thrown into another cell as soon as they landed. The seal over his heart was removed, and he felt enormously better in seconds. From the sound of it, Jūgo was placed in the cell slightly down the hall.

The room was larger than the first one and far more comfortably appointed, and even had a narrow window overlooking the lapping waves. The bed was made up with an incongruously comfortable mattress and a down comforter, and there was a chair and desk complete with a pile of books. He flipped open the cover of one, in which was written: _To Sasuke, from Karin. I know you kind of hate me, but I still hope you like these as much as I did. XOXO._

Far down the hall, a metal gate opened and something came rattling down the passage. He put the book aside and waited as the sound of footsteps gained in intensity. His breath snagged as a familiar face stopped before his cell door, along with two unknown Oto shinobi in medic's coats pushing a gurney. Sasuke took several hasty steps back.

"Hello, Sasuke-kun," Orochimaru drawled. He smoothed down the simple black kimono that had replaced the navy-blue Konoha uniform. "Fate seems to have taken pity on you–at your old teacher's expense, of course. He really wasn't very good as spies go, but he had nice, healthy lungs. It's a quality most people don't fully appreciate."

Sasuke stood shuddering for several seconds as the curse seal's fire crept over his skin. His epidermis darkened, his hair became storm gray, and a pointed black cross spread over the bridge of his nose. There _had _been something rotten in Konoha. Every time he had gone to Mizuki for guidance or reassurance, every uncertainty or secret he'd spilled, they'd all probably worked their way to Orochimaru.

"What happened to my brothers?" he seethed.

"Oh come–you were supposed to be so intelligent," Orochimaru said, and then grinned brutally. "Guess."

Sasuke charged the door, growling with the ferocity of a feral cat through the sparks the barrier was emitting. He pounded and scratched against the membrane of chakra until it burned his fingertips and his enemy swam before his eyes.

"Very good. _Very_ good," he purred. "Hate me for what I've done to your family. Never let it go, even in your greatest pain and your darkest hours, when death seems your only release. You must live, you see. You must grow strong… and perhaps the next three years will present to you the opportunity to kill me."

Locking eyes with Orochimaru had been a mistake. Sasuke struggled, but even with his sharingan he was not the genius with genjutsu his mother and elder brother had been. His wild anger was immediately arrested and the two Oto ninja entered the cell. He watched as if outside himself as they stripped him naked and lifted his limp body to deposit it on the gurney. It was unpadded, solid metal, the sort of contraption usually used solely in a morgue.

The seal-inscribed leather restraints were strapped on, across his chest, over his thighs, and around his neck, wrists and ankles. The metal table was ice against his bare skin. He was wheeled from the detention cells to another wing, which smelled bitingly of bleach. Unable to turn his head, all he could catch were glimpses of machines. One of the assistants flicked on the rack of lights mounted to the ceiling. They alit with a chorus of snaps, blinding him. An IV was inserted into his wrist. A plastic mask was pressed to his face and gas hissed down the tubing.

Orochimaru took his chin in his hand, inspecting it this way and that. "I think," he announced, as Sasuke's world faded away, "that I would like to start with the eyes."

-ooo-

Sasuke's flesh was the canvas and the scalpel his brush. Orochimaru carved away with great delicacy to alter his face to more closely match his own. They began drugging him to bleach his skin bone-white; to steel his body against depravation of sleep, food, water, and air; and to withstand dozens of poisons. The side effects were different every time, like some hideous carnival game. One gave him a headache and made his mouth taste like he was sucking a rusty kunai. Another had him hallucinating his family, even his long-dead father, calling to him beneath the window. A third did nothing at all. And the last had caused stomach pains so excruciating he lost consciousness convinced every single abdominal organ he possessed had turned itself inside out.

Awareness returned like a splash of boiling water across his face. He was getting tired of being knocked unconscious, and waking up from this episode was the worst yet–his belly still ached and his head and eyeballs were throbbing in time with his pulse. The medic hovering above him noted he was now conscious with a soft grunt. There were at least two other people in the room he could not see. The man turned to the table of surgical tools and then back to him now holding a syringe, splattering a few drops of clear liquid on the tiles as he primed it. He winced as he bent over Sasuke to inject it, as if his chest was sore.

All of Sasuke's muscles contracted. They weren't giving him _more _drugs, were they? Until today they'd at least let him have a few days to recover when the side effects had been this bad. He thrashed helplessly against the restraints. "No, no, no no no no…."

"It's okay, shh," Karin whispered gently, coming to kneel by his ear. She laced her fingers in his, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. "It'll take the edge off the pain."

The medic slipped the needle into the IV site, and relief flowed into his veins. Once the syringe was spent, he tossed it on the table of instruments and peeled off his rubber gloves. "I took a few extended-release tablets, too," he said, pulling a small wad of clear plastic and tape out of a pocket beneath his smock. "Save them for when it gets really bad. I can't steal that many at a time without the rest of the medical team noticing."

"How…" he mouthed. "Who are…?"

He pulled down the surgical mask concealing his mouth and nose. His solid jaw was peppered with shrapnel scars on the left side, and there were locks of green hair visible behind his ears. "Kazuma Yutaka. You saved my life–I'm repaying the favor. I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner; I just got off medical leave today." He straightened and looked over his shoulder. "Ren… door?"

His brother crossed to the door and shut it carefully, then wandered to Sasuke's side. "Told you, Sasuke-kun," he said cheerfully. "And there's more. A friend of mine just got back from a scouting mission to Fire Country. Orochimaru lied to you. Uchiha Itachi is still alive. He's going to be confirmed Godaime Hokage as soon as the civilian government sorts out who the next Daimyo is going to be."

"What?" Sasuke whispered. He caught ahold of that hope, fluttering weakly like a wounded bird, and clutched it against his heart. "Help me get out of here," he begged. "Konoha would pay for information on Oto and Orochimaru. My family's rich. They'd give you whatever you wanted."

"Sasuke-kun, I'm sorry, but I can't do that," Yutaka said.

"Why the hell not?" Sasuke asked. "Don't tell me you like it here?"

"Do you think I took this gig because I honestly enjoy helping Orochimaru torture the poor bastards he's keeping in these prisons?" the man answered hotly. "What I _like_ is having roof over my head. And eating. That takes money.

"People like me, we can't afford to piss off people like him. If he finds out I helped you–and he would–I end up on the other side of the bars. The other prisoners would tear me apart, and then my little brother would have no one left in the world at all. I'd have to go with you, and so would my brother, and so would Karin. I have the chakra control to water-walk back to the mainland, but I know Karin and my brother don't, and even for me it would be a gamble on anything but a perfectly calm day. You'd have to steal a boat, which are kept under 24-hour guard, and the ones in charge of the docks are no friends of mine. _Nor _could we take your new friend. I don't trust your sharingan to control Jūgo. Not in a confined area."

"Why her too?" he said, his voice tinged with disgust.

"She's a sensor. The best–she was taught Kusagakure's kagura shingan before she defected. Making sure you and the other prisoners can't get far if you break out is the entire reason she works here. If she knowingly let you escape she'd be tortured to death."

"I like you, Sasuke-kun. But I wouldn't go anyway," she announced, a little sullen and a little guilty.

"Because…?" Sasuke prompted.

"Because _this_!" Karin said, yanking off the surgical shapeless beige jacket she was wearing. Underneath she wore a tight-fitting, black t-shirt that left almost all of her arms bare. The skin was marred here and there with teeth marks… human teeth marks.

"Because you get a kick out of being the prison guards' chew toy?" Sasuke asked nastily. "Kinky."

Karin let the coat slip out of her fingers. "It's not funny," she whispered. "The kagura shingan was the jutsu I was taught. _This_ is what I was born with. It doesn't even have a name. All someone has to do is bite down on my skin, taste my blood, and a channel forms between my chakra and theirs. It'll go a long way towards fixing almost any injury–cuts, burns, even broken bones. I don't have to concentrate on healing them. I don't even have to be conscious.

"It awakened when I started my… when I became a woman. I hid it for as long as I could, because they'd…" She closed her eyes, and then in a flash her face went from a besotted blush to helpless anger. "Do you have any idea what Kusagakure _does_ to women who have this kekkei genkai? Can you even imagine what Orochimaru-sama saved me from? He gave me food, winter clothes, somewhere safe to sleep at night… and a _way out_. I could never betray him like that. I owe him too much."

"Because you were useful to him. Not because he gives a damn about you."

"That isn't true!" she cried, her eyes starting to well. "And even if it were, it doesn't matter. The rebels killed everyone in my home village after I'd gone. Gaara killed my whole team. Orochimaru's bodyguards were freaky jerks but at least they'd talk to me. It's just me left, like always. Someone who pretends to care is better than nothing."

"Look, Sasuke-kun… who do you think we are?" Yutaka said. "Rice Country is my home and I don't want to leave it. And I know what you Konoha shinobi think of us country bumpkins up north. None of our clans had kekkei genkai and we didn't have any leaders strong enough for the five kages to recognize as an equal. That's all true. What we are _not_ is monsters. My father took his missions, did his duty, and came home not wanting anything more than a cold beer and a hot meal to share with his family. Once Orochimaru took over, the scum rose to the top, but that isn't who most of us are."

"How many others in Oto think like you?" Sasuke asked, slightly chastened.

"More than you might think. Orochimaru promised us a lot, but so far he hasn't delivered on any of it. Rice is slipping downhill, and fast. There are a lot of people that aren't too happy about that. We were better off under that idiot daimyo. He couldn't administrate his way out of a burlap sack, but at least he wasn't taxing the people to death."

"Sasuke… if you're looking for allies… looking for those he's wronged…" he glanced down at the tattoo curling around Sasuke's wrist. "Remember that not all of them are human. I have to take you back now. Think about it."

As he was escorted back to his cell, Sasuke felt something teeter, tip and clatter to stillness inside his head, a coin that had been spinning without direction for years and years. To gain the power Itachi had, he would have to lose his brothers all over again. Nothing was worth that, not all the power in the world. He was never going to surpass Itachi.

And _he didn't care_.

Prison bars or not, the thought was freeing. He already knew he had the loyalty and love of his comrades. If they still lived, vengeance against Orochimaru was no longer the only thing he had left to live for. The man was truly evil and had been marked for death in Konoha's bingo book for crimes so terrible the Hokage had not allowed the full extent of them to see the light of day. He'd face justice some day, for the death of his mother and for the many, many, many others he had made to suffer. Maybe it would be by his hands. Maybe it wouldn't.

To be an avenger was to allow nothing to stand in his way–not reason, not compassion, not bonds of brotherhood, not the lives of the innocent. If he did take up the path of vengeance, if he let it consume him… if Itachi still lived, he knew he would never be able to face his brother again. He was not Madara. He would not become that _thing_.

"Yutaka-san," Sasuke said, as the cell door slid closed behind him. "I have one more favor to ask you."

"All right, but you know we can't–"

"It's something small. Something Orochimaru can't trace back to you," Sasuke hastened to explain. "As far as my brothers know, Orochimaru's already taken me as his next host. Itachi especially is… he came very close to doing something unspeakably monstrous, just to keep me alive, and I'm worried what he'll do to _himself_ if he thinks he couldn't save me. I need word to reach him that I'm still alive. A rumor–that's all I'm asking you for."

"They're going to keep moving you around the country," he warned.

"I know. Itachi can figure out the rest."

Yutaka nodded. "All right. My brother and I can do that much. For what it's worth, I wish him luck."


	23. Chapter 23

In this chapter everything is horrible. You should probably just not read Daybreak this week. I would recommend perusing this blog instead: animalshugging . tumblr . com .

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 23 Oo.<strong>

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><p>There were seventeen photographs lined up on easels in the cemetery grass, with Sarutobi Hiruzen's highest, in the center. The tables set up before the funeral portraits were drowning in white flowers. Itachi was speaking to Konoha's assembled citizens with his hands clasped behind his back. He'd donned a long cloak in the style of the Yondaime, charcoal gray instead of white, with a small clan emblem embroidered beneath the back of the collar. He had a good voice for making speeches, properly deep and steady. It was also probably a good speech, about self-sacrifice and loyalty and love–the sorts of things that are said to people trying to patch up the holes left when lives end with no forewarning.<p>

Probably. Naruto wasn't really listening. His eyes were swinging back and forth between two pictures, his stepfather's and the Hokage's. An awful lot of mornings had passed since that day in Sunagakure, and it still felt like he was dreaming, like at any moment Sasuke would come into his bedroom and thump him in the face with a pillow and then he'd finally wake up _for real_.

Itachi's voice faded away, and Naruto realized the tugging on his sleeve was Sakura indicating they were supposed to get in line to pay personal respects. She didn't say anything, probably because the tears she was struggling to hold back would go spilling all over the grass if she did. They moved through the line with the other mourners, and as the ceremony concluded the crowd began to shrug off the shroud of sorrow to return clear-eyed to their own lives. The day was splendidly sunny and hot enough that he was sweating in the black dress uniform. Sakura hugged him as hard she could, and then disappeared with Itachi towards the Hokage's Tower. Itachi himself didn't stop to say much of anything to Naruto. They hadn't spoken in days, now that he thought about it.

Although the cemetery was emptying quickly, Sarutobi Asuma didn't seem ready to leave yet, either. His and Kurenai's team had hung back as well, talking quietly with each other. Kurenai turned away from the man she had been standing beside, an elder in his sixties with graying, curly hair and deep red eyes. "You can go ahead, Otō-san, I don't think I'll be coming to dinner," she said, and delicately shouldered her way upstream of the current of people to where Naruto was still standing in front of Yūhi Daishiro's photograph.

She smiled at him, although there were unshed tears lurking in her eyes. Her left forearm was immobilized in a plaster cast and sling, and a large but yellowing bruise was still visible on her forehead at her hairline. "He and the other shinobi who stayed behind to brace the main stairwells in Suna's arena saved hundreds of lives. Mine among them." She flexed the fingers of her injured arm, letting herself feel the renewed ache of the minor injury. "The Yūhi aren't a large clan–his mother and my father were cousins, and he used to look after me when I was a little girl. He'll be missed."

Not wanting to disturb them, Kiba and Shino only moved closer to speak with their teacher when it was plain she'd said her piece to Naruto. Akamaru's ears were drooping and his tail tucked between his legs. He trotted up to nuzzle his head against Naruto's shin, whining softly, and then licked the bare skin above his sandals a few times before returning to Kiba's side.

"We're headed out, Sensei," Kiba said. "I don't know what the hell kind of weird stuff is happening in Wind Country that would make her just disappear like that… but we're gonna find her."

"You're going after Hinata?" Naruto asked, finding his rusty voice again. He looked, puzzled, at the injured Kurenai. "But how can you lead a team like–"

"I'm not," she corrected, glancing over her shoulder.

Hyūga Hiashi and his nephew were making their way across the grassy knoll. "Kiba-kun, Shino-kun, Neji and I will meet you at the front gate in two hours," he said. "I am well aware that neither of you like me, but I expect you to obey my orders as you would any other jōnin." He closed his eyes briefly, losing a touch of the cool formality when he looked them again. "Whether you choose to believe me when say this or not… I truly want my daughter safely home as much as you do."

"Understood, sir," Shino said, unsubtly shoving Kiba away before he could break the quiet of the memorial with something loud and impolitic.

Neji nodded toward Naruto in brief sympathy. "I was only six when I lost my father, but I still remember how much it hurt. I'm sorry, Naruto," he said quietly, before leaving to prepare for the mission as well.

"Asuma?" Kurenai called softly, taking a few steps up the slope to stand beside him. She reached up to lay her fingers upon the left side of his back. "I'm going to be off missions until this heals, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." She let her hand slip off his shoulderblade. "You probably want to be alone, but know where to find–"

"Actually, I…" he broke in, moistening his lips. "If you aren't busy, I… think I could use someone to talk to right now."

"Of course," Kurenai said immediately. "I have an empty couch and a full bottle of wine. You're more than welcome to both."

"Poor Asuma-sensei," Ino murmured, as the pair left for Kurenai's apartment. She looked to her teammates, crossing her arms over her chest and pinching her brows in a scowl. "If you two are your usual lazy, whiny selves on our next mission, I swear I will beat you both black and blue. Sensei has enough to deal with right now. Give him a break for once." After a bit of thought, she gave Naruto a hug to match Sakura's, and waved a small goodbye. "I have to mind the shop for a few hours; I'll see you later, okay?"

Naruto mumbled his goodbyes to Chōji and Shikamaru, and started toward the south exit of the cemetery grounds. There was no point to going east; the huge Clan Head's mansion echoed with emptiness when he was the only soul inside of it. It was getting late. Every moment he spent away from the hospital seemed like one moment too much.

"Naruto… hey, hey Naruto! Stop walking already, couldn't you hear me?" Chōji called, jogging up the gentle slope. Shikamaru caught up a second later. "You're going back to the hospital already? What about dinner?"

"They've got vending machines," Naruto replied, turning back to the gate.

Chōji stopped him with a gentle but insistent tug on his shoulder. "When was the last time you ate something that wasn't wrapped in foil?"

"Um… don't remember, actually," Naruto said.

"Shikamaru's coming over to my place for dinner tonight. Why don't you come along?" Chōji offered. "It's fine with my parents, I already let them know."

"Thanks, but I don't think I'd be very good company right now."

"Naruto… that isn't why he asked," Shikamaru said, looking vaguely uncomfortable that the dress uniforms left him no pockets in which to rest his hands. "It's not like we expect you to entertain us every moment we're breathing the same air. If you want to talk–about anything–we'll listen."

"You can go back to visit your mom afterward," Chōji continued. "And you're welcome to stay the night tonight. Or longer–for as long as you need. To tell you the truth, my dad's really worried about you staying in the Uchiha mansion all alone, and… um… so am I. So how about some real food at the very least?"

Finally, he nodded yes, at first as if his head were too heavy to support, and then with more enthusiasm. "Okay. And thanks a lot, Chōji."

-ooo-

Sakura's grip on the tea tray tightened as more muffled coughing drifted down the hallways of the Hokage's tower. The dust from the sandstorm, Itachi had said, although she knew for a fact her teacher hadn't gotten a real doctor to give a professional opinion on it. Suggesting he do so was like pleading with a brick wall, so the best she could offer was the vile medicinal teas her mother had preferred while she'd still been ill. At least, if she added enough honey, Itachi would drink just about anything she put in front of him.

She slipped inside the office and kicked the door shut behind her. It was so strange not to see Sarutobi Hiruzen behind that desk. Wrong, somehow. The room still smelled faintly burnt, like tobacco smoke, and probably would for a very, very long time. She wasn't as close to him as Naruto had been, not at all, but looking at his picture hanging on the wall nevertheless made her throat prickle. She set the cup down on a clear patch of desk.

Itachi sipped at her latest offering and didn't even wrinkle his lips at the lurking bitterness. He was as perfectly in control as ever, perfectly poised, perfectly calm, perfectly _everything_. If she hadn't seen it herself, she never would have believed it, but there was a crack in that 'perfect' facade, and its name was Uchiha Sasuke. The suicidal desperation she had seen in him on the sandy plain–it was still there, buried, but not dissipated, and it frightened her terribly.

"There was something you wanted to tell me?" Sakura asked, fidgeting with the rim of the tray she held against her thighs. "Something you couldn't say before the funeral?"

He lowered the teacup. "Cat," he ordered the empty air. "See to it that we are not overheard. I do not know who in this tower I can trust."

She dropped the invisibility jutsu to activate a web of seals embroidered around the perimeter of the room, then vanished into the wall again.

"You've been very helpful–reading me documents and taking dictation and so on. Dependable. Trustworthy. Discrete."

"Of course," Sakura said hesitantly. "As long as your eyes are still healing, I don't mind–"

"They're not."

A gulf of shock spread between them. "W-what?" she finally mustered.

"This is not an injury that mends on its own. I have known about the side effects of this technique for a very long time, and commissioned a medic to find the cure last year. It could be months before my vision is restored, or ever longer." He stopped. "Or it could be never. The damage may be too extensive at this point. Even medical ninjutsu has its limits."

In silence, he let her follow the consequences of this admission to their horrible conclusion. Although by law he was subservient to the Fire Daimyo, a Hokage wielded almost absolute power over his village. _Almost_. There was one tiny hole, a footnote she remembered from her civics courses. If he was judged by the head of the Medical Corps and the Konoha Council to be physically or mentally unfit to carry out the duties of his office, he was relieved of his power. There was a reason behind that law–a good reason. A Hokage was first and foremost a military commander. If war came, he was to rise to meet it. The village was only as strong as he was, and winds changed quickly in the shinobi world.

She swallowed. If she told anyone what she'd just heard, Itachi would be stripped of his rank for failing to disclose his true condition, and the only honorable conclusion to the affair would be his own suicide. If she did not, she would be participating in treason and possibly endangering the entire existence of Konoha. That hadn't been fair. Not fair at _all_.

"I would like you to do something for me. Come behind the desk," Itachi said. Obediently, she did, putting the tray aside. "There are only two ways I can continue to carry out my duties. The first is... something I do not want to consider." The explanation for why never came. "If I cannot have my vision back, I am asking you to lend me yours. Genjutsu functions within the brain itself. That my eyes have been ruined is of no consequence."

The idea was so simple. Brilliantly, deceptively simple. Standing behind his shoulder, she focused her eyes on the papers littering his desk. The illusion itself was so straightforward she could have executed it a month out of the Academy. But getting it to stick was the difficult part. Twice, he broke it reflexively, shattering the invasive force. On the third try he resisted the instinct, and her attempt held. He gasped shortly as the dark blur before his eyes sharpened into perfect clarity. His hand closed around a pen, hesitantly at first, as he adjusted to the slight difference in the angle. He had to keep his eyes on his hands to judge distance correctly, but after a few seconds the motions were flawless. "How long can you hold this?" he asked.

"As long as you need me to, Sensei–I mean Hokage-sama," she said, letting the genjutsu fade.

He turned in the chair to face her. "With the Exams suspended before their conclusion, many were of the opinion that no students ought to be passed this year. Others believed you and Hinata should receive the promotions, for your actions following my brother's abduction. A kage often chooses from among his apprentices one who has an aptitude for politics to accompany him as an aide. It is a position of great responsibility and utmost trust, for which you will receive little compensation or thanks.

"Sakura… I have enemies in Konoha, especially among the older generation. I've broken the line of succession from master to student–my own teacher was executed as a traitor. What I want for Fire Country is peace, not conquest. This is not a quality of which they approve, and they are likely to use unsavory means to prevent my confirmation as Godaime."

"They'll go after me, you mean," she whispered. "And my family."

He didn't contradict her, or apologize. She grit her teeth. It wasn't _fair_.

"I ask that you do not share with Naruto what I have just shared with you. I'm sure you can appreciate why–for this information to become public would throw Fire Country into even greater chaos. Now... do you accept the promotion?"

"Yes. I do," she acquiesced, her gaze low and sullen. Forcing her into treason… to lie by omission to Naruto… to endanger her parents… it made her squirm inside her skin. He didn't even have the decency to look sorry. He had been a demanding teacher, with expectations that left her bruised and aching when she reached them, his praise for her efforts coming only rarely. She'd withstood it, because there was kindness there as well, glimmering through his forbidding crimson eyes when she'd least expected it.

But she could see none of it now. Was this how the Sandaime had acted, behind closed doors? This cold? This ruthless? As if the shinobi he commanded were merely the tools used to craft the state he wished to build? If this was what it took to keep the peace between hidden villages… Sakura realized with a sinking heart that she had a lot of learning about her new Hokage left to do.

-ooo-

Naruto eventually extracted himself from the sympathy showered on him at the Akimichi compound, and made his way to the hospital under a beautiful sunset. The receptionist on duty glanced at him once and waved him through without a single question. He made his way to the corner of the ICU, a single bed in a private room. The door was slightly ajar, and Naruto pushed it open the rest of the way. The bruises around his mother's face had faded in the weeks since Orochimaru's attack, and, if it were not for the somber harmonies of the medical equipment arrayed at the head of the bed, he could almost pretend she was only sleeping. Mikoto's youngest brother Yuji was standing near her hand, holding his drowsy daughter against his chest.

"Anything?" Naruto asked, coming to stand beside him.

"No change," Yuji answered. "Somebody convinced one of the retired Yamanaka jōnin to examine her–a specialist in brain injuries–but there was nothing she could do. She couldn't find a mind inside to heal."

The little girl lifted her head from her father's shoulder, starting to squirm awake. "Naaa-ruto-niiiiii-san!" she said in a singsong voice, when she was put down. She threw her arms around his legs. "Don't look sad. My mom is taking good care of your mom. She'll be better soon."

"Nii-san?" he said, puzzled. Hatomi had never called him that before.

"You'ra come live with us now–Papa said. That makes you my big brother," she explained.

Naruto peeled the little girl off, a touch more roughly than was necessary. "I told you I'm fine at home," he snapped at his uncle. "I can take care of myself until she wakes up."

"Naruto, it's been two weeks. I don't want to think about it any more than you do, but I promised her I'd look after you if the worst happened. If she doesn't–"

"She _will_! She was out for this long after she helped Itachi kill Madara. She was fine then. Would you just stop bothering me? I don't want your spare bedroom now or ever so _stop asking._"

Sighing, Yuji took Hatomi's hand and gently pulled her out of the room. "Let's see if Nurse Mama's gotten off shift yet so we can all walk home together, okay?"

"'Kay," she agreed. She turned back to Naruto, still clinging to her father's hand. Her face was crumpled up in indignation. "You're mean like Sasuke-san now. I don't _want_ you to be my big brother anymore."

After they'd gone, Naruto carefully brushed aside some of the wires trailing down his mother's pillow and laid down, with his feet dangling just off the edge of the bed. The ventilator and feeding tube kept her body alive, but the best of the Yamanaka medical staff hadn't been able to find her mind inside it.

"To-chan's funeral was today, and the Hokage's," he whispered in her ear. "I saved one of the chrysanthemums for you. It's drying inside a book on the coffee table. You can give it to him later. They put his name on the Memorial Stone this morning, too.

"The scouting teams still haven't found any trace of Sasuke. Orochimaru's got bases all over Rice and a few more outside it. They don't even know how many. They move between them so fast ANBU hasn't been able to pin him down. But they're trying. They're not gonna give up. Shikamaru's dad is still going through all of Orochimaru's research notes, like I told you before. It's been a big deal, I guess, since there's so much awful stuff in there Nii-chan doesn't want anyone he doesn't _really_ trust looking through it. If… if we're too late, if anybody can figure out how to pull the snake out of Sasuke's head once we find him, it's probably Shikaku. He hasn't had a lot of luck yet, but he will. I know it.

"Nii-chan hasn't come to see you much, I know. He's just busy. Just…" One of the wires slipped back over his face and he flicked it away. "Busy," he mouthed. "That's all."

His eldest brother hadn't had much to say to him since Sasuke disappeared, besides to blandly reassure him that he didn't blame Naruto for failing to stop Orochimaru or for loosing the Kyūbi. He was too preoccupied for much besides that–he was just about Hokage, after all, and with the Fire Daimyo dead the whole country was in an uproar. He didn't have time to be anyone's brother, anyone's son.

But the scariest thing was that Naruto wasn't sure he would have wanted to if he could. He knew something about Itachi was different now, although he could not have articulated exactly how or why. It was like watching the ice of a truly brutal winter overcome a pond. The cold penetrated deeper and deeper as the season wore on, and even if the spring came the life contained within the water had already been frozen to death.

Naruto nestled closer against her cheek. "Ka-chan… wherever you are, please come back. Please. We need you."

-ooo-

Itachi had planned for the possible eventuality of blindness, like he'd planned for almost everything. He could still navigate the blur Konoha had become with all the grace expected of an elite jōnin, using his ears, his fingers, and his chakra senses. He had already memorized the number of steps it took to reach each of the conference rooms in the Hokage's Tower, the voices of every minor clerical worker, the precise order of every item he kept in his desk drawers.

That was why it was so disturbing to discover something was, without a doubt, missing.

The office door swung open and Sakura backed in. She'd tied back her hair and pulled the hitai-ate properly over her forehead, instead of using it as a headband. The qipao had been replaced with wine-red fatigues and her new flak jacket. Both were too large; the quartermaster hadn't been able to procure any in her size on such short notice. Thirteen-year-old chūnin weren't unheard of, but in peacetime they were a rarity. Konoha did try its best to shield its youngest from the brutal realities of command, if it was allowed the luxury. At this juncture, it wasn't. Itachi knew he was relying on her far too heavily, but since the alternative was surrendering his position as Hokage to Shimura Danzō, he didn't have much of a choice.

She placed the bowl of soup down on the desk. "I brought you some breakfast."

"Please don't waste your time that, I'm not hungry," he said. "I have a meeting with Shikaku-san in fifteen minutes and need to go over his notes."

Instead of moving obediently behind his shoulder to provide him the vision he lacked, she reached into her pocket and placed something on the desk that rattled as it struck the wood. "What are these pills you've been taking?" she asked. "I found them in your desk yesterday."

"A pain reliever. I've been getting tension headaches lately, if you absolutely must know," he said.

"Liar," she whispered, with a very small, dejected laugh. "Like _you'd_ be downing these like candy for something as harmless as a headache. I thought they looked familiar, so I brought it home, just to check. My mother has a bottle of them in the medicine cabinet. She'd only take them when her cough got so bad she could barely breathe." Sakura looked to the steaming bowl of miso, untouched like all the others had been. "You're constantly exhausted… you won't eat…"

"I have a meeting in this office in fifteen minutes and I will not repeat myself. I'm fine. This conversation is over."

Sakura pinched her fingers tighter around the tiny bottle. "_SENSEI_!" she cried, slamming it down with such force it smashed onto the wood, sending pale yellow tablets and shards of glass skittering across the desktop. Sakura hissed in pain, drawing her hand against her chest. Wincing, she plucked a piece of glass from her thumb and pressed her lips against the freely bleeding cut.

"I have work to do. So do you. Clean that up," Itachi ordered coldly.

She grabbed two file folders and used them to sweep the debris off the desk, her mouth pressed into a sour line. "You're not 'fine'," she said under her breath. "None of us are."

She had just finished disposing of the crumbs of glass when the door opened. Sakura finally stepped beside Itachi and raised one hand to sharpen her concentration on the genjutsu. The vague shapes in front of him coalesced into a familiar room, and the looming shape into Nara Shikaku, clutching a cloth-wrapped object in his fist.

"I know I'm early, but I thought you would want to know as soon as possible. This was found with the remains of Search Team Three, at the border with Rice," he said, and slid the item across the desk. "There were no survivors. I've been through the notes Orochimaru left behind backward and forwards… I couldn't find an indication the fushi tensei can be fought or undone. I'm so sorry."

Itachi could feel its characteristic shape even before removing the layers of cloth. He kept his face carefully blank as he unwrapped it, but still, his hands began to tremble. The leaf symbol etched into the metal was cold under his fingers. The left side of the band was stained faintly with old blood, the remnants of Sakura's unintentional victory in the training field last year. There was a slip of paper, too, with a short message written in an elegant hand.

_He is such a beautiful boy, Itachi—nothing more so than his eyes. I see the world as if born anew. If you wish to face me in battle, it will be his skin that you rend, his blood that you spill. The future he had is now mine and mine alone__. _

Sakura let out a whimper as the genjutsu snapped free, her concentration shattered. Although his vision had become useless without her aid, he could feel through his chakra senses the despair that was pouring off her in waves.

"Kakashi's ninken confirmed the scent," Shikaku said quietly. "It isn't a fake."

"Inform the remaining teams they are to return to Konoha," Itachi whispered, fingering the plate. "You are dismissed. You are all dismissed."

Shikaku bowed slightly, his expression hidden from Itachi's ruined eyes, and backed out. The ANBU bodyguards rematerialized and filed out of the room, Sakura trailing behind, tears streaming down her face. She stopped at the door for a moment, as if wanting to return, but Cat slipped her hand behind Sakura's back and pushed her gently forward. "The Hokage must always be strong," she whispered to the girl. "As long as you're with him, he's still the Hokage."

The door shut with a soft click, and Itachi was alone. The chakra signatures of his bodyguards faded away to a considerate distance, close enough to hear a shout but nothing less. He tightened his hand around his brother's hitai-ate, until the sharp edges of the plate bit into his fingers. Against the maelstrom screaming inside of him, it barely even registered as pain.

-ooo-

Sakura wandered from the tower in a daze, ignoring the whispers of concern lapping at her ears. Finding Naruto was easy–he was either at the hospital, at home sleeping, or training until his knuckles bled. The Konoha Medical Corps had put him on temporary leave for 'concerns about his mental health', or at least that was the reason that made it on paper. It was his seal that was keeping him grounded, and the only person with the expertise to inspect and repair it hadn't yet been able to return to Konoha.

A flock of pigeons was startled from their roost by the latest explosion of gravel echoing from the Uchiha training grounds. The stone walls boasted impressive chips and scorch marks, a few of which Sasuke had undoubtedly contributed. She swallowed hard and scuffed her steps to announce her presence. "It's me," she called. "I need to talk to you."

"Fine, come on," Naruto said. "Is Jiraiya-sensei back to fix me up yet? I need to get _out _of here." When she didn't answer, he paused from kicking the nonexistent life out of the posts and turned to face her. "Sakura... chan? What's wrong?"

"Itachi-sensei recalled the search teams," she whispered, hugging her arms against a chill that the late summer breezes couldn't touch.

"Why would he—" Naruto started, staring at her reddened eyes in disbelief.

It was almost impossible to form her mouth around the words, as if doing so would irrevocably shatter what she had promised for Team Seven. They were going to beat the odds, make it one piece to their old age and still be the best of friends. "They were too late. Sasuke is gone," she said, taking a few steps forward until they were nose to nose. "He's _gone_." She fell against his open jacket, and he embraced her out of reflex. She was shaking, her breath caught in wrenching sobs.

Naruto'd had dreams about this, his arms around her and the sweet perfume of her hair tickling his nose. This time, he didn't feel a thing. He and Sasuke were brothers. They were supposed to be together forever. He had always been at least one step ahead in everything, but still, he would always offer Naruto a helping hand to catch up. His first friend. His best friend. He let Sakura moisten his jacket, but he couldn't find any tears of his own. He hadn't been fast enough. He hadn't been good enough. And now he would _never _be. Was this why Itachi could barely bring himself to look at him? Because he, the unsurpassed genius, had finally lost his patience with his failure of a little brother?

"I'm going to talk to Sensei. This _isn't _over yet," Naruto said, almost a snarl. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

Sakura nodded, hiccuping. At least he hadn't asked if she was going to be okay, which would have been a very, very stupid question. She watched him disappear past the gates and her legs collapsed under her. She dug her fingers in the dirt as the tears began to well up anew.

With her back to the cool stone, Sakura kept crying like it was never going to stop. It was longer and harder and uglier than any time she could remember. Before Sasuke, she'd never lost anyone. There had been times when her father was late returning from a business trip, or the medics at her mother's bedside looked graver than usual, but it always worked out, in the end. It _worked out_.

Sasuke was supposed to have come through the great gates with a squad of Konoha's finest, battered yet defiant. When she heard the news she'd come running, and he would be so overjoyed to be back home the kiss she planted on his cheek would be gratefully accepted. The crowd would laugh, and Sensei would smile, and Naruto would give him a good punch in the arm for scaring them all so much. She'd already half-planned his welcome-home party.

She felt like she was choking on her own tears. Seeing his hitai-ate clutched in Itachi's white-knuckled hand made her want to scream. That voice in her head, that she had so steadfastly ignored for the last four years... it was trying to tell her something. It was _her_ voice, and it was angry. If she couldn't have Sasuke back, all that was left was hurting the man who took him away.

The flooding river slowed to a stream, then a trickle, then nothing.

Sakura dried the last of her tears on the back of her hand. Then she got up and straightened her flak jacket, which was so new it still exuded a faint chemical scent from the foam padding.

'Little girls cry,' the voice had said, 'but kunoichi get _revenge__._'

-ooo-

Naruto burst through the doors to the Hokage's office, panting. Seeing his face, the aide at Itachi's shoulder dipped his head and scuttled out. "I don't care what Orochimaru's done to him!" Naruto yelled. "I'm sure he's still in there, somewhere. We can't call off the search, not yet!"

Itachi kept his hands folded on the desk, unruffled by Naruto's outburst. "Were you aware that six people have already died on this mission?"

"They went after Sasuke because he would have done the same for them," Naruto insisted stubbornly. "Isn't that what you wanted us to do? He needs our _help_!"

"That time came and went," Itachi said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Shikaku-san and I have gone through every scroll, notebook, and scrap of paper Orochimaru left behind. Once a body has been taken, fully taken, it cannot be undone."

"What's _wrong_ with you? We can find a way!"

"To do that, we would have to locate Orochimaru, take him alive, and then keep him imprisoned indefinitely. Can you even comprehend how difficult–and how dangerous to Konoha–that would be?" Itachi's fingers tightened ever-so-slightly against his knuckles. "I have been acting as Hokage for less than a month, and I have already had to write six letters to six families informing them their sons and brothers will be returning from a mission I gave them _in body bags_. I cannot assign any more personnel to this mission, not when Fire Country is this vulnerable. Power imbalances this severe are what strike the tinder on wars. I cannot risk that happening to Konoha."

"Then I'll go myself!" he shouted. "I volunteer!"

"Use your _head_, Naruto," Itachi said sharply. "You are our jinchūriki. It is my responsibility to protect you and see that you are not captured by our enemies. Akatsuki has demonstrated they now have no qualms about using force to retrieve their targets. They may not even need you alive after all."

"I'm leaving anyway. Try and stop me."

"Tiger," Itachi said softly, to the empty air. "Uchiha Naruto is to be put under house arrest until further notice. Send word to all ANBU sentinels—if he attempts to leave Konoha or enter this tower again without my authorization, detain him. If he resists, put him in one of our chakra-suppressor jail cells. You are authorized to use force if absolutely necessary. The Kyūbi cannot be allowed to fall into Akatsuki's hands."

Naruto swallowed. "You're not like the Old Man at all."

"No. I am not. Now leave."

"You'll have to drag me out!" Naruto said, grinding his sandals more firmly into the carpet.

Itachi's motioned with his chin. A man in a tiger mask stepped out of the wall and advanced on Naruto. He tried to dive aside and failed completely; woody vines burst out of his hands to encircle Naruto's wrists and arms. He was jerked back up, and, when he tried to plant his foot between the man's legs, more of the wood closed around his ankles. The vines wrapped around his mouth as well, gagging him, and the agent heaved him over his shoulder. Without speaking, he delivered Naruto inside the high walls of the Uchiha mansion and deposited him on the moss. The vines coiled around his mouth and limbs withdrew.

Naruto spit wood chips out of his mouth and sat up, trying to massage the blood back into his hands and feet. "That _hurt_, bastard," he snapped at the man.

When inside the Hokage's tower, ANBU agents were usually silent–emotionless, faceless, nameless. But this one turned back just as he was about to leap onto the rooftops. "I wouldn't have had to tie you up so tight if you hadn't tried to kick me in the balls," he said, clearly peeved.

Naruto continued rubbing sullenly at his fingers.

He crouched lower on the tilled wall. "Look… I'm sorry about this. I really am. But going after Orochimaru yourself is crazy and you know it. The Hokage is only trying to protect you."

"Sounds more like he doesn't even want to _look _at me. He's my brother. He's supposed to _care_, and he's been avoiding me ever since the arena matches!"

Tiger sighed. "He does care. More than you seem to appreciate. But he's the Hokage and he has responsibilities to every soul in Konoha, not just you. I lost my parents when I was a toddler; I grew up in the orphanage and then joined ANBU when I was fifteen. I never knew what it was like to have a family that loved each other as much as yours does. I don't know what it's like to lose one, either, but if I had to guess, I'd say it's taking everything Itachi has not to go tearing off after Orochimaru himself. Do him a favor, and don't make this any more awful than it has to be. I really don't want to have to arrest you for desertion."

Naruto scrunched his ankles closer, now rather ashamed he'd tried to attack the man. Konoha had a lot of orphans, and not all of them had been as lucky as he in getting a second chance. "All right," he said, defeated. "And Tiger? Um… I'm sorry about the… you know. I wasn't thinking."

He cocked his head and a chuckle escaped from behind the porcelain mask. "It's okay. Take care of yourself, Naruto. Until things settle down in the capital, it's going to be tough for all of us."

-ooo-

The constant, inescapable flow of decisions needing to be made, papers to sign, and meetings to attend let Itachi keep the encounter with Naruto as far from his mind as possible. Sakura had been hovering at the edge of chakra exhaustion for days now, keeping her genjutsu of shared sight activated for so long, but she never complained. He finally had to send her home when she got so dizzy she almost passed out and fell through the picture windows.

He retired to his private chambers after she left, but still did not allow himself the same concessions to his body's desire for rest. It was painfully slow going, but he could still read using a loupe. Only in his own bedroom, however. To have anyone see him squinting down at the papers like an old man was unthinkable. Dinner had been coffee, again. He glanced at the clock out of habit, before he could check himself. The hands were indiscernible against the paper backing. It was meaningless, really. As exhausted as he was, working was preferable to sleeping and the dreams that it brought. More than once now, he'd woken up before sunrise drenched in sweat.

He bent again over the magnifier, trying and failing to keep his head from sagging with fatigue. A knocking on the door jolted him awake. Kakashi and his tufts of silver hair leaned past the frame. He had returned with his search party, evidently, and too soon for Itachi's taste. He'd have to come up with some excuse to get him out of the village again. It was during the last upheaval of Itachi's life, after the Uchiha Rebellion and his father and teacher's deaths, that they'd grown so close in the first place. Although he had been far older, twenty-one to Itachi's fourteen, the transition from commander to confidant had been as welcome as it was inevitable. Not the most tactful of individuals, but intelligent, patient, loyal.

Loyal to a _fault_.

"What?" he snapped.

"I just got a message from Jiraiya," Kakashi said, standing in the doorway. He was holding out a tray of tea and sweet rolls as a peace offering. He knelt and placed it on the low table, squinting down at the younger man. "You look like hell, Itachi. Are you feeling all right?" He reached out to press his fingers against Itachi's forehead, which he clumsily batted away.

"I caught a chest cold in Suna. I'm human. It happens."

"Awfully persistent cold," Kakashi pressed. "Look… maybe it's a virus, maybe it's stress, or maybe it's–"

"The message?" Itachi broke in. "From Jiraiya? This mother-hen patter was irritating when you were still my captain and is twice as irritating now."

Kakashi backed down, looking depressed. "Tsunade refused. She wouldn't even meet with him for longer than it took to finish one beer. She isn't going to take the hat, and she isn't going to come back to Konoha. Jiraiya's agreed to be confirmed as Godaime, as an absolute last resort, but he was pretty upfront about the fact that he'd make a piss-poor Hokage, especially at a time like this. He said he's of more use to Konoha out in the field, and I'm inclined to agree with him. Every scrap of decent intel we've gotten on Akatsuki has come from him."

"That woman's priorities are disgusting," Itachi said under his breath. "I cannot _believe_ she is the granddaughter of the Shodai."

"That… isn't all," Kakashi continued. "He also reported there was a secret meeting that took place, just outside Ishigakure, between its leader and the Tsuchikage."

Itachi felt something even colder settle in his chest. The small hidden village was nestled inside the mountains that separated Earth Country from Wind. With Amegakure's complete lockdown of Storm Country's borders ten years ago, it was Ishigakure that controlled the few navigable passes that allowed trade between the two great nations. Any commodity that came to Wind from Earth had to travel through those roads–cotton, metals, gems… or soldiers.

"And what agreement did they come to?" Itachi asked, dread in his voice.

"He wasn't sure if anything was solidified, but you know as well as I do what the Tsuchikage wants. He never forgot the concessions he was forced to pay the Yondaime Kazekage for supposedly murdering his predecessor–which we now know was a very legitimate complaint. If he can't get an agreement to allow his troops through the country with diplomacy, he does it by force."

Itachi lowered his head into his hand. "Sunagakure has been weakened too severely to repel them. If Iwagakure attacks, our mutual aid pact with the last Kazekage still holds. Önoki is banking on it. He never forgave Minato for his part in the war, and if he has the opportunity to exact vengeance on us, he will take it."

"Itachi?" Kakashi asked, when the silence stretched too thin.

"I can't," he whispered. "I can't lead Konoha like this. Not into a war. The Suna council is still bickering over the appointment of their Godaime. Kohan was fairly young–in his thirties–and in perfect health until his councilor stabbed him with a poisoned stiletto. He was grooming his daughter as his successor, but she wouldn't have been ready to take on that responsibility for years. The next choice probably would have been Baki or one of the Gyokodai, but…"

"But?" Kakashi asked uncomfortably.

"They've disappeared. All of them. And Baki's students, including the jinchūriki, and even Hinata–along with a sizable chunk of Sunagakure's citizens, civilians and active-duty shinobi alike. Their village is bleeding to death."

"_What?_" Kakashi said in disbelief.

"I'd only met him a few times, but Baki struck me as an honorable man, with a very deep loyalty to his comrades. He did not seem the type to make a power play for his own gratification. Neither did Chiyo or Ebizo. They're almost in their seventies, and from what I've gathered would prefer to spend the rest of their lives drinking mint tea and fishing."

"There's something going on in Sunagakure's government and it _reeks_," Kakashi groaned. "The only reason any of those people would be fomenting a rebellion is because the alternative is worse than a possible invasion by Iwagakure. Who's the Konoha liaison overseeing the reconstruction?"

"Utatane Koharu," Itachi supplied.

"She–"

"Do you think I'm unaware of her character?" Itachi said, cutting him off. "She's a war hawk and has never made a secret of it–she has been after territory in Sunagakure since the Second Great War was declared. She was ready to wipe my family from this earth. But I am nineteen years old, and I haven't even been properly confirmed as Hokage. The authority I can bring to bear is feeble at the very best." Half blind or not, he fixed Kakashi with a piercing glare. "I don't have much of a choice but to delegate. Relying on people whom I cannot trust has become something of a pattern for me of late."

Kakashi winced visibly at that remark, but said nothing.

"If there was nothing else you had to report, you're dismi–"

He broke off at a tapping on the window. The chakra was familiar; it was one of the more junior ANBU agents, a young man who had just been admitted into the elite force within the last few months. "Hokage-sama! Cat sent me. You'd better get to the hospital, sir. Fast. It's Mikoto-sama. That's all she could tell me."

Itachi was on his feet at once.

Kakashi put his hand on Itachi's shoulder. "If you need any help–"

Itachi swept it off. "I don't. Not from you. Leave."

"The hell is wrong with you?!" Kakashi seethed in an undertone. "You think I don't care about her? She and your stepfather watched me grow up too, remember? Whether you like it or not, _your_ family is the closest thing _I_ have left to one, so–"

"That was an order, Kakashi."

He backed away, battered into horrified, disbelieving silence. "Hokage-sama," he finally forced out, with venomous mockery.

He left while Itachi was still buckling his sandals. Itachi followed the young ANBU agent to the hospital under the glow of the streetlamps. The hospital staff bowed deferentially as he made his way to her room. The two female members of his mother's old genin team, Uzuki Yūgao and Gekkō Haruka, were hovering near the closed door. Haruka's older brother Hayate had his hands clasped tenderly at the small of Yūgao back, letting her bury her face in the collar of his flak jacket. She hastily wiped away the moisture on her cheeks with the back of her hand, half-concealed behind the fall of violet hair, and turned to face Itachi.

"What happened?" Itachi asked.

"We were having a late dinner with Ishimaru-kun, and…" she glanced at the abandoned cartons of takeout on the benches lining the hall, "the monitors started going off. When he called a Code Blue I sent a runner to get you. He's been in there with four other medics and nurses with the door shut ever since."

Without acknowledging the explanation, he left the benches to go stand at the window to look out at the stars. After a span of time he didn't bother trying to measure, the monitors inside grew silent, and the shuffling muted. From behind the door there was a crash and a despondent curse, and some concerned murmuring. A muffled male voice swept it back and then said, "No, I'm all right. I should be the one to tell him."

Itachi let his hand slip from the sill. The door creaked open to briefly reveal a small crowd of doctors and nurses peeling off rubber gloves with a defeated look in their eyes. Mikoto's last student, a tokubetsu jōnin medic named Kameda Ishimaru, stepped out of the room first. His face was damp with sweat. He looked to Itachi as he turned his back to the sky. "I had to call it. I'm so sorry. So soryr. We tried for half an hour to get a cardiac rhythm back. Nothing."

"What _happened_?" Itachi repeated.

"She'd been running a fever for a couple days… pneumonia, probably. It's hard to prevent in coma patients. Comes on fast. We had her on antibiotics to try to contain it, but they just weren't enough. Her body was too weak and the infection was too overwhelming. The nurses should be finished cleaning up. You can go in to see her, when you're ready."

Haruka unhooked her leg from beneath her and rose. "Would you like me to find Naruto-kun, sir?"

"No. I'll tell him myself," Itachi murmured.

The rest of the medical staff filed out with their equipment. The room was littered with the debris of their efforts, scraps of plastic film and empty bags of IV fluids. Itachi took his place in the chair by the bed, and found Mikoto's hand beneath the tangle of sheets. Deja vu. Only the last time this had happened, Sasuke had been here, and their mother had woken up. She had fought her way out of the nightmares Madara had drowned her in, against all odds, and with time grew to be an even stronger and more vital woman than Itachi had ever known during his childhood. She had led their clan through their greatest trials with an equal mixture of genuine warmth and steely guile.

Naruto had spent hours in this room almost every day, talking to her, reading to her, helping the nurses turn her or brush her hair. He made up for the time Itachi couldn't give. Another promise, broken. Another person he had failed. Whatever his adoptive brother had hoped to find in the Uchiha, Itachi knew his own weakness was what had robbed him of it. It was unforgivable, to inflict this suffering on someone so kind, so exuberant, so trusting. And Naruto was going to try to forgive him, he knew it. He would tie his heart in knots for someone he loved, no matter how terrible their crimes or failures. Better to break him of that cleanly, and sooner rather than later.

"I tried, Ka-san. I tried," he whispered. A twinge in the back of his throat grew more insistent, despite his efforts to clear it. Once he gave in and started to cough it was almost impossible to stop. "When I see you in the next life, please tell me I've been forgiven. It shouldn't be long, now."

He let her fingers slip from his own, onto the white hospital sheets, and shut the door behind him. Silently, he gestured Yūgao follow him to a deserted corner of the floor. "Please inform the ANBU surgical staff—I will be going ahead with the transplant."


	24. Chapter 24

**Super informal author poll**: I'm very ambivalent about the pacing of these chapters and the flipping back and forth between Oto and Konoha. If you think this would work better smushed in with chapter 22 (the other Sasuke-centric bit), raise your hand and I'll shuffle things around. **  
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**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 24 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The haze of examinations, injections and surgeries that filled Sasuke's days felt like it would never end. The nights were rarely better. In his sleep, he watched his mother fall limp into the sand again and again and again. The seal on his wrist throbbed whenever his desire to incinerate Orochimaru at any cost threatened to overcome him. The pain of that surging power was his reminder never, ever to yield to it–to his anger, to his hatred, to all the dark things the ghost of Uchiha Madara would have whispered were his destiny. During her lifetime, Mikoto had striven to turn not only herself but all Uchiha away from the path of blind vengeance. He would not dishonor her memory by succumbing to it now.<p>

The kindness of the allies he had found in Otogakure also did its part in shoring up his faltering resolve. Yutaka continued to smuggle him medicines to blunt the worst side-effects of the drug regimens and surgeries. His younger brother Ren, Karin, and a few of the other young Oto genin started sliding whatever small gifts they could manage through his cell bars–books, pens and paper, candy, a deck of cards.

Most of the candy he passed on to Jūgo with the assistance of sympathetic seagulls, who were happy enough to carry items from Sasuke's window to his, as long as they got to keep the shiny foil wrappers. They even played Go on the cheap cardboard sets Karin had found for them by calling their moves up and down the hall. Jūgo wasn't the fastest learner, and was frankly terrible at the game, but the mere act of exercising his rational mind seemed to help keep the rages at bay.

Then one day, when the sea winds had started to sharpen with the arrival of autumn, and Sasuke was sure he was on the verge of losing his mind, Orochimaru left the island stronghold and did not return. Whatever he had sought to accomplish with his next vessel, he had completed, for now. There were no mirrors in Sasuke's cell, which was probably for the best. To look into one and no longer recognize himself would have been terrifying. His face didn't _feel_ much different, except his cheekbones were sharper and his chin a little more square. His skin had lost its pigment, and the growth of his hair had been artificially accelerated until it fell past his shoulder blades. He kept it braided down the back of his neck and tried not to think about it.

Despite all that had been done to him, he was still _himself_. Why Orochimaru had not yet taken him as a host was a strange but welcome mystery.

Another week passed. The brutal regimen of drugs tapered off and finally ceased entirely, and, free of the morass of pain and illness, plots and plans began weaving themselves together in his mind. There were more possible allies he had not yet tapped–perhaps allies with the strength to help him break free of this prison. The risk he would take in contacting them was low; the worst they could do was refuse.

That night, when most of the fortress was asleep, Sasuke opened his thumb on the sharp corner of his bed frame and smeared the blood down the length of the snake tattoo. He crouched on the floor and went through the handsigns he had seen Itachi use to summon his feline parter. "Kuchiyose no jutsu," he intoned, as he thrust a mass of chakra out of his hand.

There was a puff of smoke, and a blue-black snake with white rings down its back appeared before his knees. Its body was about the thickness of his upper arm, the head narrow and blunt. Its eyes were slitted yellow. It drew itself up, swaying slightly back and forth, considering whether or not to strike. Sasuke kept his sharingan trained on the rippling scales. He had no idea what it was, or if it was venomous.

The boy and the snake looked at each for long moments. "You're a human," she said finally, in the voice of a young girl, and then added, "And you have the same eyes, but you are way too puny to be Orochimaru-sama. I am _so_ _confused right now_."

"So you can talk," Sasuke said, half to himself.

"Of course I can talk. I'm going to be a great warrior of the Snake Clan some day," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why did you bring me here? Nothing's trying to kill you. Except me. Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

"I wouldn't recommend it. If you did, Orochimaru would do something unspeakably horrible to you. All I want is to talk. I'm not going to hurt you," Sasuke said, trying to be reassuring. There was a good chance he was going to blow these delicate negotiations entirely. Naruto was much better at this sort of thing. He won others' trust and affection as easily as he breathed. Sasuke crammed his pride and somewhat caustic disposition into a mental box and locked it.

"Hm. Like I'd believe _that_. The elders say humans are all selfish, nasty liars." She bared her fangs and feigned a strike, making Sasuke jump. "If I get you good enough you'll turn black all over and be _so dead_ by tomorrow. So don't try anything. I mean it."

"If you're that afraid of me, can't you just go home?" Sasuke asked slyly, sitting back to cross his ankles in front of him. "I won't stop you."

The snap of her jaws shutting was audible in the midnight silence, and she lowered herself back down to the floor. "Who said anything about _afraid_?" she commented, touchily enough that Sasuke was now convinced she was terrified. "I'm sticking around until I figure you out. Your name would be a good start."

"Uchiha Sasuke."

"Hebimayu," she offered guardedly in return. She came a little closer and flicked her tongue out again, tasting his scent. "Well?" she asked. "How can you smell me like that?" She stuck her tongue out again, for much longer this time, waving it up and down.

"Humans mostly use their eyes to figure out what's in front of them," Sasuke explained, as he grasped the source of her confusion. "Tongues only work to taste things we put in our mouths."

"I was wondering–it's so stubby," she said, and then announced authoritatively, "Humans are really weird."

"You've never seen one before?" he asked.

"Not up close. There aren't very many where I live, and mostly they stay away from our nests. Manda-sama likes to eat them." Sasuke blanched. "But I don't," she continued. "Too big to swallow." She began squirming against the stone, clearly uncomfortable. "If I'm going to stick around to chat with you, it's not going to be on this cold floor." Without waiting for permission, she slithered into his lap and coiled herself up on his thigh. "Ahhh, that's better. You try anything and there will be biting and death–_deathhh_."

Afraid to frighten her off for good, Sasuke submitted to being used as a piece of furniture without complaint. She nosed under the flap of his top and poked her head against his belly a few times. "I didn't realize humans were so… warm and squishy. No claws. No armor. No venom. Teeth, pitiful. The clan elders are afraid of _this_? Pfft. Hah. Unbelievable." She then started exploring even lower before Sasuke could stop her. "What's this floppy thing stuck between your–"

Sasuke froze. "Get _out _of my_ pants_!" he said, in a voice halfway between a shriek and a whisper.

She withdrew her head from the waistband and gazed up at him in puzzled innocence. "What's 'pants'?"

Pinching the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, he pulled a triangle of it up before her snout. "These are pants. Please, please never do that again. I…" He took a deep breath, and steered them back to the question he had originally summoned her here to ask. "I've seen how Orochimaru treats your clan. He sends you to die for him without a second thought."

She relented in her curiosity and brought her head to rest on her coils, suddenly subdued. "Yes…?"

"That isn't how I was taught to treat my allies, human or not. If you're that frightened of him, but still come when called, I can only assume you have no choice. I brought you here because I'm a captive of Orochimaru, too. I wanted to know if we could help each other. He plans to take me as his next vessel. He killed my mother. He…"

"And mine," she added, as his voice trailed off. Snakes could not shed tears, but Sasuke could almost hear them in her voice when she spoke again. "Before she died, she told me it wasn't always like this. Before I hatched–way before–when his parents were still alive, I think, we weren't afraid. We used to be just as loyal to Konoha as the Monkey Clan, you know. He never would have been allowed to sign the contract in the first place if the clan had known it would turn out like this."

"I need help," Sasuke said softly. "So do you."

"What could _you_ do?" she asked, some haughty snap coming back into her words. "You look small, useless, and, like I said before, squishy."

"Still working on that part." Sasuke braced his hands on his knees and leaned over her. "And I'm a lot more dangerous than I look."

"Tch… whatever, tricky hairless monkey," she said, unlacing herself and flowing back onto the floor. "I should be going home–but you can summon me again, if you want. You're really warm and you didn't order me to my death. I like that about you. Plus I was told never to go near humans ever, which is the best reason I can think of to keep talking to you."

Sasuke had to laugh, something he hadn't done properly for weeks. The treacherous first meeting had gone even better than he'd expected. "Sure," he agreed. "But how do I make sure it's you again?"

"Picture my name when you summon me, that's all. Hebimayu. I'm the only one. See ya, Sasuke."

-ooo-

Over the days that followed, Sasuke summoned her several more times. She was still considered a child by her clan, and was far from reaching her adult length and girth. She was also an irrepressible chatterbox, and was more than happy to answer his questions about life in the jungles that were her home. Her scales were sleek and smooth, a different texture than stroking the fur of one of the Uchiha family cats, but not unpleasant. She reveled in the attention, or at least in his body heat, and passed their conversations twined around his arms or in a pile of coils on his chest as he lounged in bed. She had also been willing to pay a few visits to Jūgo, which he greatly appreciated. His ability to communicate with animals extended to reptiles as well, and he had no fear of any that meant no harm to him.

On this particular evening Hebimayu materialized on the floor with the tail end of a small mouse protruding from between her fangs. "That's disgusting," Sasuke said immediately, backing away. It kicked once, feebly, and he grimaced.

"I 'ike 'ice. 'Ey're tassy," she objected, as the last of it disappeared into her mouth like a very macabre noodle. It left a discomfiting bulge in her neck that Sasuke couldn't help but stare at in morbid fascination. "You eat your meat when it's already _dead_, hairless monkey. And you char it black first. That? Is gross."

"I told you to stop calling me that," he sighed. "Can we agree to disagree on this?"

"We'd better," Hebimayu commanded him haughtily. "You can go on eating your seeds and leaves and yucky burned fish parts–more mice for me!" She twined herself around the bedpost and unerringly found the warmest patch beneath the covers, where Sasuke had been sitting to read and wait for the fortress to quiet. "Can you summon some of my nestmates here, like I told you about yesterday?" she asked. "They think I'm making you up. Gonna show them–the ones that aren't chicken at least… those losers. You're going to teach them how to play that thing called hanafuda you showed me. It looked really neat."

She rattled off a list of her five bravest friends, and Sasuke went through the motions of the summoning while she peered down from her perch on the sheets. The tangle of snakes that ended up on his floor took a few seconds to sort themselves out, muttering nervously to each other. All had the same pattern of white rings down their backs, although when he looked closely Sasuke could see subtle differences in their size and color.

"Uh, hi?" he said, at something of a loss. Small talk was not his forte.

The boldest of the tangle lifted himself higher. "Hmm," he said. "Hebimayu-chan, your new pet human is kind of smaller than normal, isn't he?"

Sasuke's head snapped around to the bed. "I am _not_ your pet human!" he fumed. He had made a real effort to treat her as delicately as possible, so as not to jeopardize the budding alliance, but too much was just too much.

She darted up to twist around his upper arm, tightening as if she were squeezing the life out of a prey animal. She hadn't shown herself to be terribly bright, but she was so unnervingly fast Sasuke could only track her strikes with his sharingan activated. "You live in a cage," she pointed out, as she slithered up his shoulder and over the top of his head. "You do what I tell you. So you are_ too_ my pet human." She sniggered, satisfied her point had been made, and spiraled her way back down his arm.

Incensed, Sasuke locked eyes with her as her head slid on to the pillow. Her irises shifted from yellow to red as his will overcame her. She froze in place, and he picked her up to glare down at her paralyzed body. "Don't you dare. I'm not your pet. I'm my own person and I don't belong to anybody. Take that back. _Right now_." He licked his lips, feeling the curse seal start to spark with the misplaced anger. Taking control of her had been easy–so easy he recoiled from the action a beat after he'd taken it. Shrieking in panic, the other snakes scattered to the corners of the cell or dove behind the desk. Pinned by his crimson eyes, she was helpless to soothe them or even move.

"Don't hurt them," she whispered. "Don't. Please don't."

He shook her off onto the bed and backed out of striking range. The curse seal had been warping his perception, he could feel it, making him more impatient and aggressive when he knew he had no grounds to be. Bullying a little girl, whether she was human or not, was the antithesis of the kind of shinobi his family had raised him to be. "I told you–I'm not like Orochimaru," he said at last. "I don't kill little kids, no matter what shape they come in… or how stupid they act. If you aren't going to apologize, just take your friends and get out."

It took her a long time to properly find her voice again. "That felt horrible," she said sullenly, peering up at him. "Like you stuck your funny pink fingers into my brain and scrambled it. I was wrong about you–you _are _dangerous. Not even Orochimaru can do that to us. But… you didn't hurt me. You could've done anything you wanted, and you just let me go." She moved down the bed to curl up on his pillow. "So… I'm sorry. I take it back. Can we stay?"

He started to cross his arms and then unlaced them. "You are?"

She bobbed her head.

"Me too," he admitted, after a few steadying gulps of air. "I only did that because I thought you might try to bite me. I will never do that to you–or anyone else in your clan–again, okay?" He knelt in front of his pillow and held out the pinky of his right hand. "It's a human thing. To seal a promise with a friend."

After a moment of consideration, she extended the tip of her tail and wound it around his finger. "Okay."

The smaller snakes began peering cautiously out of their hiding places, whispering.

"You can come out," she told them. "I promise he isn't going to squash you or anything." She cast her head aside sheepishly. "Actually, um… even if I did get my fangs in you, I don't have any venom. I sort of… completely made that up."

"Do you all still want me to teach you how to play cards?" he asked, retrieving the deck from the writing desk. There were murmurs of tentative agreement all round. Questions began sprouting as he splayed the rectangles of paper out on the bed–what all the pictures meant, if it was okay to touch his hair, how many brothers or sisters he had. All but the very youngest snake managed to adequately manipulate the cards using dollops of chakra concentrated on their tails, and once they'd gotten the hang of it seemed to enjoy the game. The second batch of snakes Hebimayu had him summon the following night was twice as large. By the end of the week there were so many he was forced to draw lots for the privilege. Like the children of his _own_ species, they were a touch contrary and also intensely curious, and were very willing to discuss things their elders certainly would never have told an outsider.

The depth of Orochimaru's betrayal unfolded in dozens of small but gruesome details. He used nothing but threat of force to keep them in line, and they died at his whim in droves. The picture that was revealed was so violently divorced from what Sasuke knew of proper conduct with animal summons that it almost made him feel ill.

A summoning contract was entered into by two consenting parties: one human and one representative of a beast clan, or a single animal such as the intelligent, long-lived dogs or cats that had been a part of the shinobi world for generations. The best firsthand experience Sasuke had with them was the relationship Itachi had with Hyōkurō. His brother gave his feline partner the same caliber of respect he would a human shinobi. After the mission on which Hyōkurō had received those burn scars on his neck, Itachi spent every moment he could spare in the veterinary hospital until it was clear the animal would recover. The consideration they had for each other was mutual; although the cat was rather gruff and usually disliked being touched, when something was truly troubling Itachi he would settle into his lap and allow scratches behind the ears for as long as it took for Itachi to settle his thoughts. It was a partnership of equals, founded on reciprocity and trust.

And Orochimaru had perverted his summoning contract like he had perverted everything he had ever touched. Sasuke was more determined than ever to free himself from this prison and see his captor face the punishment he so richly deserved. The line between vengeance and justice was sharpening in his mind's eye day by day. Murdering Orochimaru would never bring Mikoto back. But following the path she had tried to set him on, to act for the good of many rather than indulge himself at their expense… it made him feel closer to her, somehow. All the gods and demons knew there were a lot of people here that needed his help.

-ooo-

Summoning Hebimayu was routine now–probably a little too routine. It was the middle of the day, but he was bored out of his mind and the gentle snores echoing down the hall indicated Jūgo was sleeping. He went through the motions, barely giving them any thought. As the smoke parted, her head flew out, fangs bared. Sasuke jerked his hand back and yelped.

She stopped short before they actually pierced skin. "Oh geez… that is you. I'm sorry, I just can't…" she mumbled.

"Sasuke-san?" Jūgo called muzzily, as the noise roused him from his midday nap. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"She tried to _bite _me!"

"Didn't mean to!" Hebimayu protested. "I molted and my eyecaps didn't come off with the rest of the skin. It's really itchy and I can't see right and it _hurts_." She turned her head to look at him awkwardly, trying to find an angle that let her make sense of the blur. "This sucks and it's my fault for not being more careful, which sucks _more_."

As much as he was looking forward to the company, he wasn't going to force her to stay if she didn't feel well. "Here, I'll just send you back. We can talk again in a couple days," he offered.

"No, no!" she hurried to say. "I would have to go to my grandpa to get fixed up. Do you have any idea how _embarrassing_ that would be? It's such a hatchling mistake! I've been hiding from everyone all day and I can't go back like this!"

From the frantic tone of her voice, he assumed it was roughly on the same level as the time Naruto'd bet him a hundred ryō he could drink an entire bottle of vanilla hand soap. That had ended in _exactly_ as many bubbles being thrown up surreptitiously behind the backyard tool shed as one might expect, and Naruto retained an aversion toward vanilla ice cream to this day.

Slowly, so as not to startle her again, Sasuke reached for her and she obligingly let herself be lifted up so he could get a better look. Sasuke could just make out the patches of cloudy skin that appeared to be glued over her eyes. He was pondering possible solutions to her dilemma when the door to the max security wing clattered open. At Karin's light footsteps, he frantically shoved Hebimayu beneath the quilts, and flipped the corner over her head just in time. Lunch was earlier than usual–she usually didn't show up until past one. She set down his tray and then Jūgo's, and inspiration struck.

"Hey, Karin," he said, as he pulled his food into the cell. "If you get me a bowl of hot water and a clean towel–without asking any questions about what I'm going to do with them–you can bring your lunch up here and eat with me."

Karin stood gaping for several seconds, and slowly blushed almost the same shade as her hair. But then, with faint suspicion as the bedsheets began to rustle, she said, "I can sense someone–"

"Sasuke, I can't breathe under there!" Hebimayu complained, poking her head out of the quilts.

"There's a _snake_ in your _bed_!" Karin shrieked, hastily backpedaling and readjusting her glasses as if the lenses had betrayed her.

He shot to his feet to calm her down. "Please don't tell anybody," he begged her, and then looked down to Hebimayu. "Are you stupid?!" he scolded.

"I won't tell, under one condition," Karin said, going into hard-bargain mode. She folded her arms over her coat and sniffed. "I can bring my lunch up here and you will eat yours without your shirt on. And you will promise–_promise_–you won't be nasty to me."

"For the love of… fine," Sasuke said with resignation. "Just hurry up."

Karin squeaked in delight and scurried off to collect the medical supplies. Hebimayu curled up around Sasuke's left arm, silent and tighter than usual. She must really have been miserable. When Karin returned Hebimayu poked her head out of the crook of Sasuke's elbow. "Hello again, human number three. Now you smell different. Like rotten mucky flowers."

"I'll have you know this is a _really expensive_ perfume," Karin said hotly, under her breath, but still delivered the cloth and hot water. The snake dunked her head in the bowl to soften the skin while Sasuke ate and Karin simpered. After lunch, with a lot of reassurance and the vigorous application of a damp towel, Sasuke succeeded in removing the old brille, to Hebimayu's relief. The growing chill in the castle had made her sluggish and sleepy, and she curled up contentedly over his bare shoulders.

Karin had been watching the whole process with her chin resting on her knees. She pushed aside her dishes to scoot as close as she could to the chakra-saturated bars. "That was so sweet, Sasuke, I just… I…" She sighed with enchantment. "Your chakra is all shimmery and warm again, like the first day we met. It's like watching a campfire. I could do it forever."

"Can you not?" he asked, annoyed. "I'm done with lunch. Also cold. Don't you have things to do?"

"Not really," she said dreamily.

"You don't have many friends, do you."

She unfolded and got to her feet, turning away from him. "No–because they all _died_. I can count the people that really care about me on _zero fingers_."

He winced and his eyes sank to the floor. That was low even for the lax standards of basic human decency she'd come to expect from him so far. Whatever her motivations had been, she had been extraordinarily kind to him, which risked her own position as one of Orochimaru's favored prison guards. The gifts she brought him came out of her own wages. She'd done nearly all of the unglamorous, dirty work of nursing him through the worst days of drug-induced illness. He owed her better than this and he knew it.

While the guilt was wafting up to fill his head, it was Jūgo that broke the silence. "I do, Karin," he said softly. "I care."

"Wait… really?" she said, pacing down the hall to stand before his door.

"_Really_ really," he confirmed, chuckling in his shy way. "I mean… you're one of the only people I ever see, so I don't know if that means much, but I do. And Sasuke-san, I like you a lot, but you can be–" he cleared his throat "–sort of a jerk sometimes."

"I shouldn't have said that to you," Sasuke mumbled to his ankles. "You've done a lot for me."

She whipped around to beam at him. "So you _do_ like me. Eee! I knew it." She collected the trays and waved goodbye, and probably would have skipped down the hall if she hadn't been carrying dirty dishes. That had him rolling his eyes. She was incredibly good at hiding her true emotions, manipulative and fawning when she didn't have to be. Every conversation was a strategic engagement. It was annoying, but it made Sasuke feel a little sorry for her. It was far, far more sinister than the sodden protestations of love he'd gotten out of Ino or Sakura. What kind of abuse had Karin suffered that made her feel that was _necessary_?

After she'd gone, Hebimayu uncurled from around Sasuke's neck so she could look at him properly, her foremost third wrapped around his right arm. "Sasuke?" she began. "I don't want Orochimaru to take you away. You treat me like… like how the clan elders say that stupid Toad Sage treats his stupid toads."

"You're jealous of them, aren't you," Sasuke said.

"Am_ not,_" she said, getting sulky._ "_I eat regular toads and they are stupid in every way."

"Hebimayu… I need you to take me to see whoever leads the Snake clan. That's the only way I can get control of that summoning scroll and save us both."

"Orochimaru betrayed her. She'd never trust you."

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

She lowered her head into his palm. "Yes," she whispered, nuzzling his fingers. "I'll talk to my grandpa. I'll see if he'll let me take you to meet the Sage. Tonight. Be ready."

-ooo-

Sasuke kept himself awake as the moon rose, watching its reflection flicker in the waters lapping below his window. Near midnight, he felt the air around him begin to tingle against his skin. With no other warning, he was pulled out of his cell by an invisible hand. He landed in an unsteady crouch in a wide meadow, feeling vaguely like a sweater that had been turned halfway inside-out and then put through the wrong cycle of wash. He recognized none of the plants beneath his hands and knees, nor the profiles of the massive, thorny trees. Their branches were festooned with vines, hanging moss, and bromeliads. All about him, hundreds of birds were calling to greet the dawn.

The _dawn_. Where was he?

"It's this way, Sasuke," Hebimayu said, raising her head from the carpet of plants. "The Sage said yes. I think my grandpa cashed in a really big favor. You should thank him sometime."

The disorientation quickly dissipated, and he rose to follow the rustle of leaves deeper into the forest. Stone structures peppered the jungle, all carved with the repeating motif of serpents and soaring dragons. The trees and buildings were hung with snakes, some no bigger in girth than his pinky finger, a few more than large enough to make a meal out of him. Without any weapons beyond his hands and his eyes, he felt acutely vulnerable. Their expressions were impossible to read, but their alien eyes followed him curiously as he passed, tasting this foreign scent with their forked tongues.

Something truly massive had carved a path through the jungle, and recently. The broken branches he ducked under were still oozing sap. Hebimayu followed the trail through the vegetation until they came to a limestone plateau that was so high it broke the tree cover. It was carved across its length with arches and hallways the burrowed into the stone. At least some of the tunnels seemed to have been natural formations at one time, but the embellishments made it more akin to a palace than a cave system. Two identical jet-black snakes were coiled on each side of the most elaborate arch. Horned black headdresses were tied beneath their chins, and the long fall of iridescent feathers that spilled down their necks were an unmistakable nod to the crest of a dragon.

"Here we are," Hebimayu said. "This is as far as I can go. Please don't say anything that would make the Sage try to eat you. She's kind of cranky sometimes." She swung her head to building interior and another serpent came to meet him, an emerald green individual with a pattern of white lightning bolts down its back. This one was definitely large enough to swallow him. Sasuke gulped.

"You will come with me," his guide ordered. He lowered his snout to the young snake. "You have lessons to attend, I believe."

"Yes, sir," she said dutifully, slithering off.

The human dependence on vision put Sasuke at a disadvantage as he was led deeper into the darkness and the temperature rose. In the shadowed rooms, he could hear water falling, scales on stone, and dozens of voices. He stuck close to the green boa and concentrated on not stumbling on the uneven floor. They finally stopped at a room from which torchlight shone and large clouds of tobacco smoke wafted. Sasuke stepped inside.

Lying beneath a sculpture of a dragon was a white serpent that glistened like a living pearl. Between her brow ridges a tattoo of a third eye stood out dark against her scales. Her coils were numerous and sheathed here and there with intricately worked silver rings, and even more jewels hung at the base of her head. She drew herself up, her neck a graceful arch. "I am the Lady of Ryūchi Cave," she said. The voice was inhumanly resonant and echoed from the roughly-hewn walls of the chamber. "You will address me as Hakuja-sama."

"Y-Yes, ma'am," he stuttered, and mentally kicked himself for the slip. He'd come here to bargain, and a show of fear might induce her to decide he'd make a better breakfast than he would an ally. "What is this place?" he asked, stepping into the circles of light spilling from the torches. "How far away from Otogakure are we?"

"To be truthful, I do not know, beyond that it is unimaginably far. There are few people here; they hunt at our borders with stone arrowheads, and they do not mold chakra, nor do they look or speak like you. You may be free of your prison cell, but I doubt you would ever find your way back to the shinobi countries from here." She shifted her bulk on the stone platform. "I have been told we have much to gain from each other, Uchiha Sasuke, for we are both prisoners of Orochimaru."

"You'll help me kill him?" Sasuke asked, coming closer. He wasn't sure whether to remain standing or kneel, and the inscrutable reptilian face wasn't offering any hints. Nervousness moistened his palms. He was balanced on a knife's blade, now. One wrong move and the alliance he'd been hoping to secure would tumble down, along with most of his hope for escape.

"Perhaps," she said, making her way down the incline. Her head was larger than Sasuke's torso, the fangs longer than knives, and her body seemed to wind into infinity. "But I will not suffer traitors, weaklings, or fools. Prove to me that you are none of these things, and I _may _decide to aid you." She lowered her head next to Sasuke's shoulder, and her tongue flicked out so close he could feel the air brush against his cheek. "Personally, I doubt you are anything but self-serving vermin. The young are naive. I will not be so easy to sway as the children to whom you have offered this pretense of friendship. I made the mistake of trusting humans, and my clan has paid the price for my misjudgment. We gave Orochimaru a great many things, and he has repaid us in death and suffering. A hundredfold."

"It isn't a pretense, Hakuja-sama," Sasuke said carefully. It was taking every fiber of self-control he had not to flinch from the creature's breath ruffling his hair. He was convinced this was some kind of test, and intended to pass it with flying colors. "When I first summoned one of your clan's children, I was looking to help myself. That much is true. But I don't think that was wrong, especially not if I can help someone else on my way. I've already lost my mother and father, and I miss them, but I don't want power or knowledge or eternal life to fill up that hole–because they won't. Maybe Orochimaru and I do have a lot in common…" He clenched his artificially bleached fists self-consciously. "But there is a lot more that we don't. I know the lords of the great beast clans live a very, very long time. We human shinobi make it to seventy, if we're lucky. There must have been humans you trusted. A lot of them. Didn't Orochimaru have a clan once? Didn't he–"

"Quiet, boy," she snapped, as irritation rippled down the coils. "I will ask the questions, not you. If I could, I would burn that cursed contract, so that we could never be bound so again. If your blood is the last thing that ever marks it, I will be content."

"If you help me, I'll set fire to it myself. I swear on my mother's grave."

She snickered. "You do, do you? Grand words. While he lives you could never get near it. You–" she broke off suddenly, to sniff at Sasuke's left wrist. "That mark on your arm… what is it? How is that _possible_? Hold out your hand. Let me see." Sasuke did as he was told, puzzled. The snake tasted it with the tip of her forked tongue.

"It's some seal of Orochimaru's. My friend Jūgo said it's something to do with his kekkei genkai. That's all I know."

She withdrew the tip of her tail from where it was resting against the stairs, and touched it to the marking of the three tomoe. The length of her whole body went still, as if it had been carved from alabaster. There were a few seconds of complete silence and then power surged into Sasuke's body, so intense it set of fireworks behind his eyelids. He felt his skin rippling, and then the bones of his skull. He screamed and fell to his knees, more out of shock than pain, as he felt a strange protuberance emerge from his temples. The burst of exotic power was brief and faded as quickly as it had come over him. The hornlike growths disappeared.

"The dragon's crown is a mark of a true sage, you silly ape. It won't hurt you and it won't stick that way. Get up." As Sasuke sheepishly picked himself up off the floor, the Sage started to laugh. It was chilling, but her cold anger wasn't directed toward him. "This changes things. This _changes_ things," she murmured to herself. "I have not seen a human pupil worthy of the grace of senjutsu in nearly a hundred years now. Whether it was artificially induced in you or not, the potential remains."

"What's… senjutsu?" Sasuke asked, still rubbing at his temples to reassure himself his skull his gone back to the proper shape.

"The fusion of the energy of the earth with the energy of your body and spirit. I will explain its intricacies to you later, but suffice to say it could make you more than a match for Orochimaru, if he were weakened and you properly disciplined and trained. This companion of yours… I have heard rumors the tribe existed somewhere in the shinobi countries, but I thought they would have died out by now. The mutation is so dangerous it would be almost impossible for one afflicted by it to father or bear children."

"Hakuja-sama, please. I need an answer. I don't have a lot of time. Orochimaru could come back to take me any day now," Sasuke said.

"That is not actually true," she explained. "You have three years, at the very least, from the day his current host was taken. Every three years, the cycle repeats. In a weak host, the pressure of his chakra will eventually corrode the body in which he resides. It becomes ill, and he must shed it. That is why I surmise he has chosen you, aside from your sharingan. Your chakra system is very strong. Your body could contain him without weakening for your entire natural lifespan."

"If you've been allied with the Senju branches before, you must know how powerful a sharingan can be. If he gets control of mine, you won't have _any_ chance of breaking free, not for decades." Swallowing his pride, he touched his knees to the stone and bowed his head before her. "Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it–whatever oaths or sacrifices you need me to make, I will."

She withdrew to the dais, considering him carefully. "I have none, save these. We ask that you give us the same respect you would give to one of your own human comrades. We perceive the world with senses you cannot even comprehend; trust us when we advise you. Do not ask us to face any danger you yourself would not face. Know that every serpent you summon is no less of a thinking, feeling creature than you are, whether they can produce human speech or not. Now get up, boy. I can see you have your pride, as do we. Groveling does not become you."

"I understand," Sasuke said, getting to his feet.

"Then we have a deal. We will teach you everything we taught Orochimaru... and even a few things we did not."

-ooo-

Training in senjutsu was, at least in the first stages, incredibly boring_. _He had to meditate for countless hours on perfect stillness in order to even perceive the ebb and flow of natural energy, never mind control it. A prison cell was as good a place to do this as any. The process of attempting to gather it into his own body at all was yet another slow, monumentally frustrating step, and he hadn't even reached the level of attempting to mingle the stuff with his own chakra. At this rate he would need every scrap of the three years he had been given to master it. The infusion of Jūgo's cells into his body at least prevented the terrifying side effect of petrification and death, a fate which had apparently claimed at least a dozen of his predecessors.

There was another, more troubling problem the white snake hadn't warned him about. That last explosion from down the hall had made the whole floor tremble.

"Sasuke-san?" Jūgo panted. "Whatever you're doing over there, please, _please_ stop. I think the ceiling might be starting to melt."

Other than the current issue, the lessons had fallen into a comfortable pattern. Sasuke spent most of the morning asleep, rising after noon to keep Jūgo company for a few hours. He trained his body as hard as he could within the confines of his cell until night fell and he was summoned back to the jungle. The snake sage was a cold and unforgiving teacher, but in that way she was very much like Itachi and Sasuke couldn't say that he minded.

As urgent as it felt to master senjutsu, he felt could afford to take a detour for poor Jūgo. The serpents were teaching him their own style of ninjutsu as well, which, thanks to his sharingan, he was picking up far more quickly. He had just figured out the first steps of the space-time manipulation they used to push their heads through one place (such as a sleeve), while keeping their tails anchored somewhere several thousand kilometers away. It wasn't very useful for breaking out of a prison on an island, since he had to know exactly where he was going or he risked rematerializing in something solid and killing himself, but the walls between his and Jūgo's cell ought to be _just_ thin enough for this to work.

"Hey Jūgo," Sasuke asked casually. "You've got your pants on, right? Go stand in the far corner of the room for a sec."

"Yes, and okay, sure, but what sort of question is–"

Concentrating hard, he pushed his fingers through the wall and into the snake's jungle, took two steps forward, and then popped out into the fortress again. "For someone so big you scream an awful lot like a little girl," Sasuke announced, as he arrived on the other side of the stone partition.

"Howwhatthe–_get out, get out_! I'll hurt you! Get _out_!"

"You won't, I trust you," Sasuke assured him. "I just want to check something."

To even see the natural energy pulsing through the world usually took months to master, but once you had the trick of it, the glow could be seen everywhere there was life–in every bird, bug, or blade of grass. Even in this ostensibly bare cell, he could see it gleaming from the microbes coating every surface, which was a little awe-inspiring and a little disgusting. The tendrils of power were all creeping slowly towards the center of Jūgo's chest. He really _was_ absorbing natural energy, completely against his will, and it was stirring and melding with his own vast yet wild store of chakra. When Sasuke tried pulling it from the environment around him, a large portion was diverting to Jūgo and triggering his transformations more rapidly and violently than normal.

"Interesting. The snake sage was right," Sasuke announced. "Sit down. I'm going to teach you how to mold chakra."

"I don't know, Sasuke-san. All this chakra-shinobi-jutsu stuff is really over my head. Honestly, I can't even read very well. Never went to school," he admitted, embarrassed, and folded down cross-legged as Sasuke had requested. "The only thing in my whole life I was ever really good at was helping my family take care of our cows, and any stupid lunk can do that."

"You're uneducated, not stupid," Sasuke corrected. "There's a difference. My younger brother started out the same way. He was Dead Last in our Academy class until somebody who cared enough to spend the time to teach him actually did. I plan on dedicating the next three years of my life to learning how to consciously gather natural energy… and teaching you how _not_ to. I think part of the problem is that you never learned how to discipline your mind or your chakra reservoir. We should start there, and by the way I'm teaching you to read properly while I'm at it, because you'll never get anywhere otherwise_._"

"You mean I could be… normal? Go outside? Have friends? Even girl… friends?" Jūgo flushed very, very red and brought his hands up to distance himself from the slip of the tongue. "I mean, _a_? _A _girlfriend? Not being greedy here or anything…"

Sasuke chuckled. "I'm sure there's someone out there for you."

Jūgo shifted to his knees and all but pounced on Sasuke like an overgrown puppy, hugging him desperately. He only let go when Sasuke started to make the squeaky, gasping sounds of someone who lungs could no longer expand adequately. "Oh… sorry. Sorry! Sorry," he babbled, withdrawing. He blushed again in embarrassment, and scooted backward, lacing his fingers in his lap.

He coughed a few times, his hand resting above his diaphragm. If he hadn't been such a self-professed coward, he would have made a terrifyingly strong shinobi. Sasuke made a mental note to add basic social skills as another area of intensive study. "When I get back to Konoha, I'm bringing you with me," he said. "There are farmers all over the land just outside the walls. I'm sure any one of them would be delighted to have the help of someone as strong and as good with animals as you are. Or you could get a job assisting at the veterinary hospital. Whatever you wanted."

"That sounds… that sounds wonderful," Jūgo breathed. "I know you didn't choose to come here, and you've suffered so much, but… you don't know how glad I am I got to meet you, Sasuke-san."

"What's happened to me isn't your fault. I _am_ here, and I plan to make the best of it. My team can get along without me until I can break out. They're strong, and they have each other. They'll make it."


	25. Chapter 25

This is going to be the last chapter before the new year. Writing is nice and I am rather keenly conscious of all the people who look forward to my updates, but fanfiction is an extremely sedentary activity and I need time to dedicate to the Campaign to Make All of DigitalTart's Pants Not Be So Tight, Jesus. Go enjoy your nondenominational winter holidays!

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 25 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Itachi had been putting this off for hours, and at last he had run dry of excuses. The suitcase just inside the door was already packed with the essentials, as well as Sasuke's old hitai-ate, which hurt to keep close by, but even more not to. The tower runners would bring it to the hospital for him.<p>

He removed a large envelope, sealed with an elaborate loop of gray ribbon, from the drawer in his bedside table. Although he could no longer make it out, in the corner were printed the words 'Last Will and Testament of Uchiha Mikoto'. He pulled the legal papers out and laid them aside; it wasn't the money or property he was interested in. He upended the package on his quilts, and three more, much smaller envelopes finally fell out, one each addressed to himself, Sasuke, and Naruto.

Naruto's he pocketed to deliver later. Sasuke's he felt he ought to burn, unread, but sentimentality won out, and it made its way into his flak jacket beside Naruto's. His own he took to his writing desk, sitting down with his ankles tucked under him and his back straight. Perfect decorum and perfect detachment–they were his anchors in this storm of grief, and if he let go of either he knew he would be lost. As Hokage, it was something neither he nor the village could afford. He reached for the desktop magnifier and unfolded the letter. It read, in Mikoto's graceful calligraphy:

_If you are reading this letter, Itachi, I have fallen in battle, I suppose, although unlike some I would have found it just as great an honor to die an old woman with my family close about my bed. Please do not be frightened for me—the borders of the Pure Lands are a gentle place, and I have the best of friends waiting to welcome me on the other side._ _The suffering that was mine to bear in this life is at its end. If you can take comfort in anything on this day, take it in that. Please look after Sasuke and Naruto, and our clan, and Konoha. A tall order, I know, but if anyone has that kind of strength, it would be you._

_I have one last thing—a gift that only I can give. The world is a beautiful place. If the circumstances of my death permit, it would be my joy and my honor to let my eyes light it for you once again._

He resisted the pull to read it again, to savor the last words his mother had for him, to tease some strands of hope or serenity from the bleak future laid out for him. Instead, he pulled on his sandals and made his way down the tower stairs. He moved like a ghost through the village, unseen and unheard, until he turned the corner to the hospital entrance and pushed open the glass doors. Naruto and Sakura were already waiting on the chairs on the second floor, in the sparsely decorated lobby. Kakashi was as well, early for once, and had his nose buried resolutely in a book.

Naruto rose when Itachi came in, looked him up and down, and embraced him with desperate ferocity.

"Naruto, stop it," he said dully, trying to work the boy's arms loose. "I am all but Hokage now. You can't do this sort of thing any longer."

"That's a stupid rule," he answered, hanging on even tighter. "You're going to have an operation that goes all the way into your brain. That scares me, okay!? It would scare anybody!"

Itachi finally succeeded in untangling Naruto's clenched fingers, and restored what he felt to be a proper distance between them. "This is from Ka-san. It was with her will. She had one for each of us." He handed Naruto the letter between his pinched fingers.

Reverently, he took it, pressing the paper to his heart. "With her gone, you're the only family I have," he whispered. "Promise you won't leave me alone."

Itachi cleared his throat, trying not to cough. "I promise." The falsehood slid into the conversation without resistance. Naruto was so _trusting, _even of Itachi, who knew more than anyone he did not deserve such a gift.

Sakura had stood when Naruto did, but moved no closer. She was less effusive in her affection, but she was frightened for him, too. He could sense it seething around her, a mixture of concern, respect, and resentment. He had wronged her; he knew that very well. He'd sucked her down the whirlpool of shinobi politics, rife with plots, poisons, knives whistling in the dark. Her grief for Sasuke was a different animal than that which stalked him. She mourned not what they had shared in the past, but a future that now could never come.

Kakashi finally lowered his book. "Naruto, come on, sit down," he said, tapping the cover against the empty space on the bench next to him. He slid one finger under his hitai-ate and blinked at the boy with his own transplanted sharingan. "It's not so bad. He's getting ten times the care I did, and I made it out of surgery okay."

Naruto backtracked and collapsed onto the offered seat, sliding dejectedly down the bare wall. Sakura took her seat again without saying anything. Kakashi himself rose just as Itachi was brushing past to meet the head surgeon in the prep area. "If you don't want me in the recovery room with you, I'm letting you know right now that you'll have to have me arrested," he said very quietly. "In front of Naruto and Sakura. Cuffs and chains and everything."

"You're behaving more childishly than usual," Itachi snapped.

"And I've had a really, really long day and I'm not in the mood for your martyr bullshit," Kakashi shot back. "Ninety-nine percent of the time, the person most capable of taking care of you _is_ you. But as soon as the anesthetist puts you under, that person is me. I am not leaving this hospital voluntarily until I know you're all right."

"I'm going to be late. Do what you want."

-ooo-

Itachi remembered the final consultation with his security detail and the head of the Medical Corps, changing into the hospital gown, and the burning lights above the operating table; everything after that had faded into a grimy haze. The time spent under the knife had been neatly excised by the anesthesia, along with his ruined eyes. His upper face was bound loosely in bandaging, leaving the room in total darkness. Whatever they'd given him for the pain was still percolating through his brain, muffling his thoughts and senses.

The room in which he was resting was partitioned from the waiting area by a wall that was mostly windows, intended to keep a postoperative patient quiet and warm while the effects of the anesthesia wore off. He could only vaguely sense the four people in the outer area of the recovery room with him, and the only voice, Naruto's probably, was muffled.

The inner door opened and closed. He didn't know the cadence of the footsteps. "You must be in pain now that the anesthetic's wearing off, Hokage-sama," the woman said softly. "Let me give you something for it. Are you cold? There are extra blankets, if you want them."

Her voice was almost, but not quite, that of the nurse he'd selected from the ANBU medical specialists to be part of his surgical team. He focused his senses outward as intensely as he could, through the layers of cotton down that felt like they were encasing his brain. As a shinobi, he had learned to put faith in his instincts, and they were screaming something was wrong.

"I can survive pain," he said, and raised his coarse voice as high as he could. "I don't want more drugs. I ordered you to go."

She ignored him, and Itachi heard a faint spurt as she primed a syringe. "You're still disoriented from the anesthetic," she said, in the same soft, reassuring voice he had heard before. "Please try to calm down, sir; if I wait much longer the pain will become severe."

"You are not my nurse," he said, trying to wrestle his body weight up on rubbery arms.

"Paranoia is occasionally a side effect of anesthesia," she said loudly, over his protests. "For your own safety, I'm going to have to restrain you until you're feeling yourself, Hokage-sama."

His already weakened body seized up in the coils of a kanashibari jutsu and he fell back against the pillows. The paralysis was the tightest Itachi had ever felt; he couldn't even open his mouth to cry out for help. He felt a breath on his ear as the nurse leaned over him. A quiet, cruel chuckle and she whispered, now in a dry, masculine voice, "Although before you die, I'll give you the satisfaction of knowing that you were right. Even sick and blind, you are truly an exceptional shinobi. Orochimaru was right to envy you." With that, he slipped the needle in. The drugs inside burned up the IV site and the veins of Itachi's left hand.

Itachi knew that voice. It belonged to the silver-haired genin who'd helped the senior medics care for Sasuke following his collapse in Training Ground Forty-Four. Yakushi. Yakushi Kabuto, that was his name. His comrades outside hadn't realized anything was wrong, or one of them would have broken the assassin's neck as soon as he set foot in the room. Itachi threw a crude, graceless genjutsu over them all, the best he could do with his hands paralyzed. It was a silent cry only they could hear: _Assassin_! _Help me_!

-ooo-

Kakashi had been staring at the same page of Icha Icha Paradise for twenty minutes now, slouched in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Sakura and Naruto were engaged in a listless game of cards in one corner of the carpeting, while Yūgao stood guard in her ANBU cloak and mask just down the hall. This whole section of the hospital had been cleared out except for his bodyguards and the minimum of medical staff. He straightened up when the nurse came in, a blandly efficient-looking woman with her hair lashed tightly in a bun. "Can I see–"

"In a little bit, Sempai," she said, rebuffing him with a touch of impatience. "He's still extremely disoriented. I need to administer more pain medication and take his vitals again before I can allow visitors."

Sighing, Kakashi relented, and stood to stretch. He stuffed the book in his back pouch and his hands in his pants pockets. He crossed to the interior window, watching the nurse check Itachi over. He seemed agitated, but that wasn't too unusual; during his ANBU tenure Kakashi had made a point of watching over any teammate who'd needed major surgery, and they'd done some memorably strange things coming out of anesthesia, including cry, attempt to punch him in the teeth, and babble for an hour that the get-well flowers were plotting against them.

Small thorns of unease were still worrying his back. The muscles affixed to his spine refused to unknot. Something tasted wrong, in the air.

He cocked his head and glanced over his shoulder as something fell onto the carpet behind him. Smoke exploded into the small room, and someone dropped through the ceiling into the cloud. His sharingan was uncovered even before the first shouts of anger and panic were torn from Naruto and Sakura. From within the murk the blade of a katana emerged to impale him; coughing, Kakashi threw himself to the side and it only grazed his ribs. He caught the assassin's arm to wrestle the blade away. The grunts of effort as she struggled to twist away from him were female, and familiar. She was shoved against the wall, toppling a vase of plastic flowers on the short table. The sword finally clattered dully against the carpet, amidst the shards of pottery, and blade was lost in the smoke around their feet. The hood over her head was knocked aside, revealing strands of violet hair. Kakashi cursed under his breath

Naruto slammed into the interior door as soon as his brother's call for help jangled into his brain. He found it locked, and responded by blowing the thing clear off its hinges with a fūton. The windows' thick glass shattered and streamed onto the floor. Smoke and kage bunshin poured into the room and piled on the ANBU nurse. The splinters of the doorframe had disrupted the transformation cloaking her.

"You were the med student who…" Naruto began, furious, as his clones wrestled with the traitor. "When Sasuke was sick you…"

Kabuto was forced to drop the syringe to defend himself from the onslaught of clones. The paralysis broke, and Itachi ripped the IV line out of his arm, spattering blood across the sheets. He half-fell out of the bed and executed a few handsigns slouched against the wall. There was the scrape of Kabuto drawing a kunai, and he went for Itachi again, confident in his odds and a much more skilled but heavily weakened opponent. Itachi dodged the blade by sound alone. The kunai buried itself in the wall plaster, and he grabbed the side of Kabuto's head before he could wrench it free. He discharged the suiton jutsu he'd prepared directly into Kabuto's brain, fatally rupturing the delicate tissues. Blood and cerebral fluid began trickling from his nose and ears, and he went limp.

The adrenaline spent, whatever drugs had been pumped into Itachi's body began to close in. The pain in his eyes became far away, and so did everything else. Naruto kicked Kabuto's corpse aside and dashed forward to support him as his legs buckled. The remaining clones disappeared. "Some kind of narcotic, I think," Itachi panted. "Don't know what else."

Sakura dove around the struggle between Kakashi and Yūgao and ducked into the recovery room. "Sensei? Sensei, no, no, no," she said fiercely, digging her fingers into his shoulder. "You stay awake. You fall asleep, you stop breathing, you die."

There was a squat medication cabinet and a rack of basic supplies tucked in the corner of the room. Sakura knelt in front of it and unspooled a length of wire from her bracers to force the lock open. She frantically swept aside packages of pills and liquid concentrates until she found what she was looking for, then pulled out the bottle and a clean, capped syringe, which she slipped in her belt pouch.

Outside, Kakashi was still struggling with Yūgao, who was fighting like a mad thing, without regard for the injuries he'd inflicted on her. He kicked her down for a third time, hearing bones crack. He brought his hands together and white light shrieked out of his palm. While she was still clawing her way up from the pile of splintered wood that had been the end table, he darted towards her again, clutching the tightly focused spear of electricity.

Precisely at the point where he would have run her through, he abruptly cut off the chakra supplying the technique. Silence descended. The chidori had burned through her armored ANBU vest but not much deeper, leaving only a superficial burn to the side of her navel. He pinned her wrists with one hand and shoved her mask up with the other.

"Inside the walls of the Uchiha mansion are a row of shrubs. What color are the flowers?" he asked.

She groaned at the pain of the burn and her cracked ribs, but pushed the answer out between her teeth anyway. "They're evergreens," she gasped. "They don't bloom."

"It was that goddamn Yamanaka with the yellow eyes, wasn't it. Bastard," Kakashi whispered savagely, helping her up. He unscrewed the small window mounted high on the wall to let some of the smoke out. "How bad did I hurt you?"

"I've had worse," she answered, grimacing as she hunched over the pain in her chest. "Sempai? I'm sorry. He got me before I even reported to the hospital. I couldn't fight off the shintenshin. He was too strong."

"Kakashi-san, Itachi's been poisoned!" Sakura called from the interior room. "He needs help!"

"You won't find it here," Yūgao told the girl. "ANBU is completely compromised. The loyal agents in his security detail are probably already dead. Get the Hokage out of here, please," she begged. "This entire wing is rigged to blow if the assassin was to fail."

"How do you…" Kakashi started.

"Fū locked my mind in some kind of doll when he took my body. The eyes were covered and I couldn't see, but I could hear him giving orders to his subordinates in Root, over their radios." She pulled her arm free of Kakashi's supporting grip and picked up the sword he'd wrestled from her hands. "I'm going to stall them as long as I can. If I don't see Hayate again... tell him... tell him I love him and I'm sorry I waited so long to give him an answer. It would've been yes." She sheathed the sword against her back to sink into the wall and disappeared.

"Naruto," Kakashi said, ducking into the smaller room, his voice tight with urgency. "Did Jiraiya teach you how to summon specific toads? By name?"

"What?" he said, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Itachi's graying face and ragged breathing. He coughed against the smoke curling around the floor and asked, "What do toads have to do with anything?"

"Just _answer_ the _question_."

"Yes?"

"I need you to bring the one called Shima here. Now, or we're all dead. I can't take on all of Root and a building rigged with explosives all by myself."

Naruto bit down hard on his thumb, crouched on the floor, focusing all of his chakra out through the name. Quick on the uptake as always, Sakura grasped his plan and skipped into the waiting room to grab the suitcase that held Itachi's uniform, shoes, and weapons.

A small toad with violet markings on her head appeared before Naruto. "Jiraiya, this had better be—" she started crossly, glancing around the room in confusion. She sneezed, waving at the smoke with one hand, and then dropped it to blink at Naruto, her mouth hanging open. "You're... and you..." she said, looking up at Kakashi, crossing her arms over her torso, "...are a lot bigger than I remember. You were always so snappy to that sweet Uchiha boy–knew how to respect his elders properly, he did. _You_ I never liked. You have one minute to convince me to stay, or I'm going home. I was in the middle of dinner."

Against the wall, Itachi groaned. The toad's expression softened. "Two minutes. What happened to him?"

"Poisoned," Kakashi explained, bending one knee to speak with her. "Shima-sama, as a favor to Minato-sensei, I am _begging _you: take us and these two children back to Mount Myōboku. Someone just tried to assassinate the rightful Hokage, and came closer than I thought was possible. There is something very rotten in Konoha, and I think his name is Shimura Danzō."

"That boy is Minato's..." she said, and added, in an undertone, "The prophecy..."

The Yondaime's name snagged Naruto's attention, even through the fear for his own life and the anxiety over Itachi's wellbeing. He gaped at Kakashi, too overcome with conflicting emotion to speak.

"They'll be after Jiraiya-chan, too, won't they," Shima said.

"Most likely," Kakashi agreed.

"You," she said, addressing Naruto. "You've shared your blood with us. Mark the others. A drop on their hands will do."

Naruto squeezed the cut on his thumb he'd used to summon her, which had already started to close. He drew it quickly across the back of Sakura's hand, then Itachi's, but before he could reach Kakashi's fingertips there was a sound like a thunderclap. The bricks shook, and metal screamed as something heavy toppled from the hospital roof. Acting quickly, Kakashi braced the room with three heavy walls of earth as the electricity cut out and they were thrown into darkness. Tons of wood and concrete shifted overhead, threatening to buckle the hasty supports.

Another blast went off, even closer. Kakashi grabbed Naruto's bloody hand as Sakura muffled a scream against Itachi's shoulder. "Now or never, Shima-sama!" he cried.

She clapped her hands together as the fire of the first explosions triggered a second and then third wave. Within minutes the room was a gaping wound in the structure of the hospital, gouting smoke and dust.

-ooo-

The four humans landed gracelessly in a muddy field. The air was thick with tropical humidity and the buzz of millions of insects. All around them were buildings so organic they looked like they had sprouted from the marsh itself, and indeed the only indication they were homes at all was the glow of firelight flickering in the windows. Beyond the lumpy structures, tall towers of rock ringed them on all sides–the secret village of the Toad Clan had been constructed in the caldera of an extinct volcano.

"Uhhh... that didn't feel good at _all_," Naruto moaned, and struggled out of the bog to the firmer ground on which the others had been deposited.

Shima took a few long leaps to clear the mud and spilled some of her own blood into the grass; a shocked Jiraiya hit the ground a second later, splashing what was left of the bowl of soup he was holding onto his shirt. "Why are they here? Why am _I_ here? I did my best with Orochimaru—don't you people get that I'm retired?!" he fumed. He pushed himself up, grumbling and ineffectually brushing broth from his clothes. Taking a few steps forward, his face fell when he realized the identity of the figure Kakashi was holding against his chest. Sakura was scrambling to inject the medicine she'd stolen to counteract the poison, but her hands were trembling so much she couldn't even get the cap off the syringe. "Oh," he whispered, every drop of humor draining from his face. "Shima-sama, what just happened?"

"If Kakashi-kun's guess is correct, Shimura Danzō just pulled off a coup d'état."

"He needs a doctor," Sakura said desperately. "I don't know much about poisons. I can't even–"

"Calm down, _calm down_," she said to Sakura. "Jiraiya-chan, bring him to your cottage. The light's better there. I'll do what I can for him. We don't have a doctor, at least not one trained to treat humans."

Taking the tiny toad seriously took a bit of imagination, but no one was going to laugh at any creature who could append '-chan' to Jiraiya's name, to his _face_, and get away with it. The commotion below was beginning to draw the denizens of the marsh outside. Visiting humans were a rare curiosity, and so many at one time was rarer still. Shima ordered several to inform her husband of what had happened, and sent more to collect various medical supplies. She had made a study of a great many things in her long life, one of which was the care of the reckless young humans that appeared occasionally in her mountain.

Jiraiya had spent enough time on Mount Myōboku to make it worthwhile to build a small cabin tailored to human comfort. It was tucked against the wall of one of the higher, drier areas of the village. There were two small rooms plus the kitchen, put together with, at best, a sloppy grasp of carpentry, but there was light and blankets to be had inside. All of it, including the old-fashioned stove, was cluttered with paper and books. Jiraiya pulled a set of bedding out of the closet and hastily laid it out next to the fire pit. Kakashi had insisted on carrying Itachi himself and laid the semi-conscious man on the mattress. Once some lamps had been lit, Shima's steady voice and presence helped settle the tremors in Sakura's hands, and she got the medicine injected without further mishaps.

"He's going to be okay, right?" Naruto asked in anguish, as he hovered near the screens and tried not to get in anyone's way. "Right?"

"Get him out of here, Jiraiya-chan," Shima said, without looking up from her examination of Itachi.

"Hey… hey, answer me! Are you deaf, grandma?!" he yelled at Shima. He wrenched himself away from Jiraiya's hands when the older man tried to guide him outside. "I asked you a–"

Jiraiya's solution to the escalating tensions in the cottage was simply to toss Naruto over his shoulder and haul him outside, screaming curses. He kicked the door shut and put him down on the patchy grass ringing the building. Naruto immediately tried to force his way back in with no success; retired or not, Jiraiya hadn't let his training routine lapse and still possessed incredible physical strength.

"What's your problem?! I want to see my brother!" he yelled, squirming ineffectually in the vise grip Jiraiya had caught him in. "Let me see him!"

"Naruto, stop it," he ordered. "Shima needs to concentrate on what she's doing."

Jiraiya let him go when the boy stopped trying to bite him, and, as soon as his hands were free, he filled the quiet hill with his kage bunshin, no longer even focusing on the door but on hammering the impassive Jiraiya with everything he could muster. "It isn't fair!" Naruto screamed, tossing sloppy kicks and punches in Jiraiya's general vicinity. None came even close to connecting. "Why is it always _me_?! _Wasn't I alone for long enough_?!"

Jiraiya continued dispassionately banishing the clones until Naruto had finally drained his massive chakra reserves to the dregs. He was tottering on his feet, and, just before he hit the ground, Jiraiya stepped smoothly forward to catch him. He carried the boy to a patch of downy moss and gently lowered him to the ground. With a tiny breath of fire he lit some of the smoky herbed-oil lamps scattered about the clearing, to keep mosquitos away, and knelt next to the unconscious Naruto. He shrugged off the crimson haori and shook it flat to lay over him.

He settled against the cliff wall and crossed his arms with a sigh. He glanced down at Naruto for a moment and winced. "I'm sorry, Naruto. It's not your fault you have a hopeless failure for a godfather."

-ooo-

Shima's husband Fukasaku appeared at Jiraiya's cottage just as she had gotten Itachi stabilized. After consulting briefly with his wife, he and Kakashi ducked out of the cabin, leaving Sakura and Shima to tend to Itachi.

"How is he?" Jiraiya asked, breaking away from watching the fireflies dance in the air before him, an energetic reflection of the stars twinkling overhead.

Kakashi folded down on the lip of the porch. "Could've been a lot worse, but still not great. Sakura was afraid there might have been something else in the needle besides the morphine; neither of them could even begin to figure out what, much less find an antidote for it. And he's still blind and in a lot of pain, at least until he can finish healing on his own. The transplant team was playing it as safe as they could… there was supposed to be a follow-up session tomorrow to finish healing the muscles, once they were sure the nerve connections took. Doing it all at one time is risky; we were deep in enemy territory and I was already completely blind in one eye when Rin did my surgery, so I had no vision to lose."

"What happened to…" the toad began, hopping over to peer at the gently snoring Naruto.

"He's fine–physically, anyway," Jiraiya said. "Just needed some sleep."

Fukasaku reached out with a hesitant digit to brush aside a lock of blonde hair that had fallen over Naruto's headplate. "You told me he took after his father, but I had no idea it was so striking. He looks almost exactly like Minato-chan did the first day you brought him here. If there's anything else we can do for you…"

Kakashi bowed his head and then looked at Fukasaku. "You and your wife have been very generous, but if Danzō is still allied with Orochimaru and the Snake clan, we can't stay here indefinitely. Even for Minato-sensei's memory, I can't ask your people to die for someone who doesn't hold contract with you."

"There is one more thing I'm worried about," Jiraiya added. "The village won't accept Danzō as Hokage unless all other options have been exhausted. Tsunade turned it down once, but that was because she thought I was going to take up what she refused… knowing a warmonger would be running roughshod over the village might be enough to change her mind. If he wants to keep that hat, he's going to have to kill her. She only vaguely pays attention to what's going on in Konoha anymore. If he's lucky, he might be able to catch her by surprise, and…" He blew out a heavy breath. "I'm not letting that happen. The town nearby where I saw her last holds a blackjack tournament every year, and she never misses it. If I can make it down there within the next few days, I should be able to catch her."

-ooo-

Naruto awoke with one foot tangled in the mosquito netting someone had draped over his futon (which they had thoughtfully tucked him into last night); he remembered nothing of how he had come to be there. It was just past sunrise, and the air was suffused with peculiar but calming amphibian harmonies. He worked his way out of the cocoon of slightly mildewed blankets and stuck his head into the other room. There was a note from Jiraiya tucked into the doorframe, saying he was at the storehouses gathering supplies and would be back soon. Itachi was still sunk into a fitful sleep, with Sakura collapsed on the tatami mats to his left side. He must have summoned Hyōkuro out of Konoha sometime during the night, since the cat was now tucked into Itachi's elbow with his head and front paws draped over his chest.

A painfully familiar, savory scent drew him into the cramped kitchen; he tip-toed around Sakura's back and slipped inside. When Kakashi saw he was awake, he put his finger against his lips and pushed forward the single cup of instant ramen he had found in a cupboard. He raised the hot kettle in a silent question and Naruto nodded gratefully yes. Kakashi motioned him back outside with his breakfast, so they wouldn't disturb Itachi. He inhaled the noodles while watching the sun peek over the cliffs encircling the village.

After he'd finished, he put the empty plastic bowl aside and said, "I'm Minato's what?"

Kakashi didn't immediately answer the question. He was sitting with one leg bent, resting an arm against his knee, and watching a bird that had just landed in the grass to peck for its breakfast. It was a beautiful creature about the size of a crow, indigo frosted with iridescent blues and greens on its head, and the edges of its wings.

"Minato's _what?" _he repeated in a more forceful whisper.

Something startled the bird and it took to wing. Kakashi scrubbed his masked face with one hand. "The Sandaime thought it would be best not to tell you until after you'd made chūnin–although I suppose no one thought to mention the prohibition to Shima and her husband. It wasn't the sort of thing it was safe to shout from the rooftops. Iwa shinobi don't forgive easily, and Konoha's Yellow Flash killed a _lot_ of Iwa shinobi. It would have made his son the target for very bloody vengeance, especially if he wasn't there to protect you any longer."

"Oh," Naruto said in a small voice.

"That's it? Just 'oh'?" Kakashi prodded. "What happened to the I'm-Going-To-Surpass-the-Yondaime-and-You-All-_Better_-Believe-It thing?"

Naruto hooked his ankles together, drawing them closer to his body. "I don't know if I want that job any more," he said miserably. "He decided to seal a demon in his own kid, and pretty much ruin their life by making them an orphan and a freak at the same time. If it hadn't been for the Uchiha, that friendless, messed-up freak would have been _me_. It's not fair. I could've turned out like Gaara for all he knew, and he just went and did it to me anyway. I sort of want to punch him."

"Namikaze Minato was a great man," Kakashi said. "Being a kage means making very, very hard choices. It's why I never wanted that hat. And you're right… it isn't fair, but I hope you don't hold this one against him forever. I think… I think he chose you as the next jinchūriki because he had faith in your strength as his son, and in the generosity of Konoha's people. From what I've seen, he wasn't wrong."

"Could you tell me about him?" Naruto asked, torn between anger and aching curiosity. "Not the history book stuff. The real stuff."

"The real stuff?" Kakashi repeated, and knocked his head back softly against one of the beams, sorting through the jumbled box of memories. "He took me as his student before he really made a name for himself. When he was still a new jōnin, he played up the dumb blond stereotype for all it was worth. He had the perfect smile for that kind of act. It made him look as stupidly innocent as a puppy that had been dropped on its head right after birth, and it took _years_ before most people figured how smart and skilled and ruthless the shinobi hiding behind that stupid grin really was.

"They called him the Yellow Flash because that was all you saw–his yellow hair in the corner of your eye, and then you were on the ground, completely at his mercy. He was the fastest shinobi that ever lived, and as far as I know no one's beaten him in speed. The best Uchiha of his generation couldn't touch him. If he were alive now, I don't think even Itachi would have been able to manage it, not without dragging him into a genjutsu first.

"Like I said, he was vicious when he had to be… but also very kind," Kakashi said, sobering a bit. "After my father killed himself, Minato-sensei stepped in to give me everything Sakumo should have. He and Kushina had just moved into a tiny apartment above a bakery that really didn't have room for an extra body, especially not a kid as messed up as I was, but he let me stay there all the same. I ended up living with them until I was about fourteen, and he was officially confirmed as Yondaime and they moved into the Hokage's Residence.

"He was very patient with me and my teammates, Obito and Rin–I was an insufferable little prick of a genin, to be honest–and with Kushina. She _completely_ earned that Hot-Blooded Habanero nickname. Your mother was a lot of wonderful things, but 'even-tempered' was never one of them.

"The villagers loved him. The toads did too. It was hard not to… he was just that kind of person. I think the Sandaime had him pinned as his successor before he even turned twenty."

"It just feels like so much to live up to," Naruto murmured. "I thought I had it all figured out, but I really, really don't. I screwed up in Suna. Bad." He swallowed, Itachi's blank face reflecting his own guilt back at him, magnified a dozen times over. "I talk too much and I read too slow and my brain just doesn't work like other people's. How is somebody like me ever gonna become somebody like him?"

"I said he was a great man, not that he was perfect," Kakashi reminded him. "He made his share of mistakes. Plus he'd occasionally cry watching girly movies, was criminally neglectful of houseplants, and was hilariously bad at hiding his porn."

Despite himself, a giggle bubbled out of Naruto's mouth. He pressed his hand against his lips, unsure how it had made its way out when so much misery was pressing down on his chest. "You started early with that, huh," Naruto observed.

"Damn right I did."

He sniffed. "I'm still angry at him. A little bit."

"I think that's allowed."

They sat together in the dawn's gentle, buttery light for a little while, listening to all the creatures of the marsh rouse themselves for the day, and then Naruto said, "We're missing-nin now, aren't we."

"Yeah," Kakashi agreed somberly. "Probably. I hate to say this, but Shimura Danzō is one smart bastard. He isn't going to make it easy for us to get back to Konoha and expose him. Jiraiya said he already blocked off the transport pool from Mount Myōboku to the village."

"How are we going to be okay?" Naruto asked. "How is this ever going to work out?"

"I don't know," Kakashi said, hauling himself to his feet. He and Naruto could both hear Jiraiya trudging up the cottage path, and the thumping footfalls of several toads that had probably volunteered to help him carry their supplies. "But we have two of the best shinobi Konoha's ever seen on our side. Maybe a third, if Tsunade agrees to come with us. That's got to count for something."

"Kakashi-sensei… don't you mean 'maybe a fourth'?" Naruto asked, looking over his shoulder.

Kakashi curled a finger around to his own chest, and Naruto nodded. "All of us would've died if you hadn't been there, in the hospital. Danzō would've won." He got up as well, rubbing some early-morning chill from his fingers. "If my birth parents took care of you like you were their own, that makes us… well, I don't know what that makes us, but it's something. It's definitely something." He mustered a weak smile. "When your life is all falling apart, and you feel really scared and alone, a good teacher makes a lot of difference."

-ooo-

Jiraiya spent the rest of the morning with Naruto, performing the long-overdue inspection of the Shiki Fūjin seal, and telling embarrassing stories about his first blond protégé. Although the bindings restraining the Kyūbi had been severely stressed, it was naturally elastic in the amount of power it could handle, and the damage Orochimaru had caused in the exam arena was not as severe as Itachi had feared. The lingering disorientation from the anesthesia had worn off by the time he finally awoke in the midmorning, although he was still weak and in a great deal of pain from the incisions. When Shima finished fussing and pronounced them ready to go, she guided the group to the network of pools the Toad Clan used to move about the continent.

Jiraiya went first, to demonstrate how to activate the seal etched into the stone edge of the well. The water had an oddly thick consistency, like syrup, from the chakra saturating it. He lowered his hand carefully into the liquid. The space-time ninjutsu activated, and he disappeared in a gentle swirl of smoke. The others followed, with Kakashi supporting the dizzy Itachi. The terminus of the pool was a quiet glade near Fire Country's border with Grass. The bamboo forests around the pool jostled against each other in the wind. The murky sky was threatening rain.

"Last time I was here, there was a basket-weaver's cottage still standing nearby," Jiraiya said, once they'd all passed through the gate. "Old guy bit it a few winters ago. You and Itachi-san can probably take shelter there. I'll keep my eye on the kids. The town itself is on the trade road, south of where we are now. It's a few hours' walk."

"Wait," Kakashi said. "There's something I need to take care of first." He knelt and extracted a palm-sized scroll from his vest pocket. He bit down on his thumb and dragged it across the paper. All eight of his ninken appeared in the clearing, and in short order Kakashi was buried under a pile of furiously wagging tails. Bull, the heavily jowled gray mastiff, knocked him over and pounced on his chest to slobber ecstatically all over his face, while the rest of the pack hovered about barking, whining, and shouting questions. After he'd been thoroughly, joyfully licked, Pakkun let out an authoritative yap, and the dogs reluctantly drew back. Kakashi sat up with as much dignity as the scene allowed, readjusting his hitai-ate and uniform, which were both now damp and sticky.

"They said you were dead–knew it couldn't be true," Pakkun said. "Inuzuka Hana's pack told us ANBU was trying to cover something up at the hospital. They're painting it as an Akatsuki terrorist attack, but that didn't pass the sniff test. She was getting ready to hustle us out of the village on a 'training trip' just in case."

"She was?" Kakashi asked, as he reached out to scratch the nearest furred belly.

"Of course she was," Pakkun said. "Hana's the Inuzuka clan heir–she's a smart lady. Listen, Kakashi… you still have allies in Konoha. A lot of them. Hana got in touch with Kurenai about the suspicious scene in the hospital, and _she_ passed the message on to Asuma and Gai and the Uchiha that they should be on their guard. She couldn't prove anything, though." He sighed, with hint of a whine. "Oh, and you might wanna know Uzuki Yūgao's loverboy cashed in one hell of a favor with the head of ANBU T&I. He got the guards to look the other way while her boyfriend broke her out of jail. Somebody was trying to smear her as the Akatsuki mole that they've failed to catch all this time. They both split town and for now they're okay, although they're going to have hunter-nin on their tails pretty soon, and Morino's probably gotten himself kicked out of ANBU for the whole stunt."

"_Yūgao_ as the traitor? That's rich," Kakashi snorted. He mouth quirked in a nostalgic smile. "Hayate and Ibiki were genin teammates; I guess they're still watching each other's backs."

"Where are you all headed now?" Akino said, the large yellow akita.

"I don't know. Pakkun, please come here," Kakashi said. The pug padded over to where Kakashi was kneeling. He went through a few handsigns and lifted the scroll in his pinched fingers. He breathed on it and the paper burned it to ash. "All of you are hereby released from your contract to me." He laid his hand briefly on Pakkun's head, as if to scratch his ears, but pulled off the miniature hitai-ate instead. "Take off everything that marks you as ninken. There's a fairly large settlement nearby, you'll be able to find food there. I'm sorry to take you away from the comforts of home, but I don't know what Danzō would have done to you if you'd stayed. Thank you for everything you've done for me, and take care of each other."

His pack exchanged a few forlorn glances, but began pulling off the vests and bandages with teeth and claws. Finally, Kakashi unclasped Bull's spiked collar himself. Instead of joining the rest of the pack, the mastiff butted his enormous head against Kakashi's chest and began to whine piteously. Kakashi reached up to scratch his neck one more time. "I'll miss you too," he whispered. "Now get going."

"For somebody so big, you're such a baby," Akino sighed. "Come on."

The rest of the dogs turned to slink away, disappearing into the brush, but Pakkun didn't move. "Is the cat staying?"

Hyōkuro folded down on his haunches by Itachi's ankle. "Yes," he said. "The cat most certainly is."

"Then so am I," the pug announced.

"I just told you to–" Kakashi began.

"No complaining, Kakashi, and don't look so huffy. You and I have known each other since we were puppies. Did you really expect me to leave you to stumble your way through this mess with that pathetic human nose you have? You just torched our contract–you can't give me orders anymore. The rest of the pack can take care of themselves. They're big dogs, they'll be fine."

-ooo-

Jiraiya and the two teenagers made their way down the rolling hills and snuck into the town at its shabbier end. The streets were odiferous dirt instead of cobblestones, the ground churned into muck from the rain showers that brushed past as the day wore on. Salesmen and beggars had come out in force to ply money from the tourists trickling in for the card tournament. They took refuge in the press of the crowd, and when Jiraiya reached his destination he parked Naruto and Sakura in a tiny alley and ordered them to stay put under pain of death.

He cloaked himself in a henge to hide his tattoos and headplate and stepped into the bustling street. The wariness melted from his face and he strolled up to one of the shopfronts, the sign bolted to the second floor crackling with neon. In the long shadows of the afternoon, women with gaudy hairpins stared out from the windows that lined the street like caged animals. A chubby, ebullient young woman clutching a parasol was sitting on a bench outside, trying to drum up business. She let it swing parallel to the ground as Jiraiya ambled up to her and put his foot on the bench, so he could peer down her loosely belted robe.

"I don't believe this," Naruto growled. "He acts like we're all gonna die and then hooks up with some girl. I'll kill him."

"I'll help," Sakura offered angrily, cracking her knuckles. "This street doesn't look like it's full of just any old hostess clubs. Pig."

The salesgirl giggled at something Jiraiya said, nodded, and then disappeared inside, swinging her hips. He ducked back to where Naruto and Sakura were waiting next to a dumpster.

"This is _serious_," Naruto complained. "Itachi-sensei could be–"

Jiraiya slapped a hand over Naruto's mouth before any more privileged information could spill out. He pulled the boy deeper into the cavernous shade between the buildings. "The situation we're in is more serious than you can wrap your hyperactive little brain around," he said sharply. "I fought through two wars, and I can count on one hand the number of times I've been as deep in shit as I am right now. Before I do anything, _I_ need to know who knows what in this town, or you, me, Sakura and Tsunade are all dead."

"How is that girl gonna help us with that?!" Naruto whispered in annoyance, as soon as Jiraiya let him go.

"I was about to come back and explain, you idiot. I needed to make sure her mistress was in before I risked taking you inside. The woman who owns that bar is one of my most knowledgeable and reliable contacts, and sympathetic to Konoha to boot. Henge into something young, male and scruffy-looking. You don't have to hold it for long, just until we're upstairs."

"I'm not going into a… a… _whorehouse_!" Sakura said shrilly, halfway under her breath.

"If simply walking into one is the most unpleasant thing you have to do in this line of work, count yourself lucky," Jiraiya said, without humor.

Chastised, they did as he asked, deciding to take the form of a pair of brothers with mud-colored hair. Sakura tried to ignore the noises emanating from behind the thin walls as she trotted down the halls close behind Jiraiya. One of the waitresses led them to the third level, far removed from the alcohol-soaked din on the ground floor.

Behind the door was a handsome, dark-haired woman in her forties, kneeling behind a desk snowed under with paper. Her violet lips were clenched around the long, slender stem of an old-fashioned kiseru pipe. The kimono she wore was a subdued gray, although the front was artfully, sloppily closed to display a tantalizing triangle of her bust. She removed the pipe from her mouth and gestured them in with it. "Jiraiya… didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon… always a pleasure. Please, sit," she said. "And tell those two they can drop the henge. They're among friends."

The lack of an honorific, and more tellingly that Jiraiya wasn't troubled by it, lifted Sakura's eyebrows. "You're a Konoha kunoichi, aren't you," she whispered, as she released the disguise and knelt on one of the cushions lined up in front of the desk.

"Was," she corrected, after taking long drag of the pipe. "And that was a very long time ago. The battlefield was never much to my taste, and I didn't like taking orders from idiots."

"Naruto, Sakura, this is Nara Osoe," Jiraiya said.

The woman frowned at him. "You know I don't use that name anymore. It's Michiko, as in 'Michiko's Bar & Grill', like it says on the goddamn neon sign."

"You sell…?" Sakura murmured, looking slightly horrified.

"I sell whatever my customers want to buy. I'm a businesswoman."

"Sakura, she's an information broker… mostly," Jiraiya said. "What did you think I came here for?"

"We just thought… because the girl out front was dressed like… and you're _you_…" Naruto mumbled.

Osoe chuckled low in her throat. "You've been a shinobi for forty-odd years now and you can _still_ get people to buy that bone-headed pervert act. Amazing. Well, the half of it that's an act, anyway." She gestured with one finger to the level of her temple. "Eyes up here when we're talking business, if you don't mind… and why are you back in my corner of Fire Country so soon? I thought you were heading back to Konoha for a while."

"The village is in serious trouble. Someone tried to assassinate Uchiha Itachi, and they came very, very close to pulling it off. He and his genin team got out, barely." He glanced to Naruto and Sakura, and Osoe stiffened immediately. "Shikaku is going to be up to his neck in intrigue very soon, and so is anyone else loyal to Sarutobi or the Uchiha. There are already rumors in Konoha the 'terrorist bombing' at the hospital where Itachi was being treated was nothing of the sort. When word gets out about what Danzō tried to do to them, their friends won't be silent. It'll probably be prison, execution, or desertion. You know Fire Country's underbelly like they don't. Show them how to get around."

"You're asking a _lot_," she said sourly. "I resigned from service properly, with stamped papers and oaths of silence to both the Nara clan head and the Sandaime. I make a point not to consort with missing-nin. Gets you killed."

"Please," Jiraiya pleaded. "This is going to be the last favor I ask of you for a very long time."

Reluctantly, the woman nodded. "All right. All _right_," she grumbled. "I'll have my girls keep an eye out for them, let them know there's… something approaching an organized resistance to Danzō regime. You know how to get in touch with me discretely. Twenty years since I tossed out my hitai-ate and I still can't quite shake this Will of Fire nonsense–I must be out of my mind." She got to her feet and gestured they rise as well, then went rummaging around in a cabinet. "You need to get out of that green thing and let me do something about your hair," she announced, holding up a pair of heavy scissors. "You too, Sakura. Pink, of all things… tch, Root is going to be all over you. You'd attract less attention as a boy; passing shouldn't be too hard," she added blandly, which made Sakura glance down at her bustline and scowl.

Osoe called to a servant to find some clothes and dye for them, and while they waited she attacked the long tail of hair Jiraiya had swept over his shoulder. When she finished, the white coil dropped into the tatami mats like some kind of bizarre taxidermy project. Another girl appeared to take care of Sakura, and she was whisked down the hall to complete the transformation from shinobi to country bumpkin. After a short delay a pile of drab, well-worn clothes appeared at Osoe's office door. When she appeared back in the room, Sakura's hair had been clipped at her jaw and become a dark maroon, and the servant had even dyed her eyebrows to match. Once they were changed, a smear of concealer to cover the whisker marks on Naruto's cheeks and the tattoos on Jiraiya's completed the transformation.

"How do girls put up with this every day?" he groused, patting at the makeup. "It's itchy."

"We just do. _Don't scratch_," Sakura scolded.

Jiraiya now looked like any other weather-worn farm patriarch in the elemental nations, albeit an exceptionally tall one. "Tsunade is in town by now, I take it?" he asked Osoe, as he finished tying the conical sun hat beneath his chin.

"Yes. She got in last night," Osoe offered, looking with satisfaction at the two ratty teenagers sitting in front of her desk, who could now pass for Jiraiya's grandsons without a great deal of fuss. "Inn with the yellow door right next to the east gate, across from the noodle joint. She hangs out at the hotel bar until someone invites her to a card game. You'll miss her if you stick around here much longer."

"Anyone looking for her?" Jiraiya asked.

"Only the usual collections officers. No government types. That's all I know. Now get out of my office."

Jiraiya got to his feet and shooed the children out the door. "Thank you, Osoe," he murmured with a slight bow.

"Out," she repeated crossly. Just as the Sannin reached the stairs, she added softly, "and Jiraiya–don't get yourself killed."

-ooo-

"She checked in somewhere _nice_," Jiraiya said, eyeing the creamy stucco facade of the hotel. It had cheerful red-and-orange striped awnings and boxes of flowers hanging from the windows. "She must've won big. Sakura, Naruto tells me you've picked up a thing or two from Itachi-san. Would you be so kind as to see to it no one notices we're here?"

"Yes, sir," Sakura said, and tugged a blanket of subtle genjutsu over all three of them. It wasn't quite invisibility, but made them fade into the background, unworthy of notice or memory.

The bellhop didn't even glance at them as Jiraiya pushed open the glass doors. The building was just as lovely on the inside, with high ceilings and a tasteful bouquet of lilies taking center stage in the lobby. Jiraiya turned left, following the clinking of glassware, and soon found the mostly deserted hotel bar. A blonde woman in a green coat had crammed herself in the corner table, lounging on the padded bench, and was complaining to her companion about something or other.

"_That's_ Tsunade?" Sakura whispered to Naruto. She couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

All the biographies of the woman she'd read or watched had chronicled her unparalleled medical skill, her forceful leadership, and her stunning beauty up into her thirties or so, when they petered out with a somewhat embarrassed reference to her 'leaving the village for personal reasons'. Sakura could now see exactly why. The twin blonde tails flopped over her back looked like they'd been slept in and not redone, and a lock of her bangs had been inadvertently dipped into one of the shallow bowls of soy sauce littering the table. The brown stain was drying slowly on her shoulder.

The dark-haired woman looked up, and her eyes went wide. Jiraiya put his finger to his lips, and she closed her mouth as soon as she'd opened it. "Shizune," he said quietly, nodding to her in greeting. "What are we drinking to?" Jiraiya asked, sliding into the seat next to his old teammate.

She looked up at him through her lashes, and did nothing but blink for several moments. "_You_? Already said I don't wanna talk to you. Find another bar. 'S plenty."

A flat, pink nose poked out from beneath the table, quivering in curiosity, and was followed by a miniature potbellied pig in a red vest. Her snout was bristly and damp, and Naruto giggled involuntarily as the stiff hairs tickled his ankles. Something made her draw back for a moment, squeaking in surprise, but she finished her inspection of Sakura as well, and trotted back to lie down by Tsunade's ankles.

"That's Tonton," Shizune supplied with a small smile. "She's got a good nose. You both pass inspection." She indicated the empty chairs next to her. "You can sit down, if you like."

They both accepted the invitation. With a muffled, drunken murmur Tsunade propped her cheek on her palm, then sat up completely and began to guffaw. "One of your girls finally caught up with you, huh? I _knew_ you had kids. They don' look much like you, though. Good thing, too, with your ugly face…"

"Tsunade," Jiraiya said, flushing faintly. "I'd like you to meet Uchiha Naruto and Haruno Sakura."

She picked up the mug in front of her. "Uchiha?" she said, crumpling one side of her face. Leaning forward to get a better look at him, she slopped a little of the amber-colored liquid onto her sleeve. "You're kidding. Those bassards don't come in blond. Whosis kid _really_?"

"That isn't what I came all the way here to talk to you about," he said in an undertone. "Konoha–"

"Still needs a Hokage?" she finished for him, then burst out laughing so hard she almost slid beneath the table, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "They fired you already?" She seemed to find this so funny she could barely breathe. "Can't help you. 'S your mess. Nothin' I can do about it. But you... you were there, useless piece a..." she muttered, suddenly somber. "You shoulda stopped Orochimaru when he first left, but you couldn't. You're too soft. Tha's your problem. Too _soft." _ She jabbed her finger at Jiraiya's chest, punctuating each word with another sharp poke at his sternum._ "_Like a big. Damn. Teddybear."

Shizune looked horrified. "I-I'm so sorry, Jiraiya-sama–she started at this at two in the afternoon. It's the whiskey talking, I'm sure she doesn't actually blame you for–"

"Yes she does," Jiraiya said softly, who was no longer smiling. "When she's sober, she's just too considerate to remind me to my face."

Tsunade shifted the weight of her head to her arm again, looking up at Jiraiya. "Is okay," she said, fingering the crystal hanging around her neck. "You screwed up, I screwed up, we all screwed–" She fixed her bleary eyes on Shizune, and then reached between the collection of glasses to pat the other woman affectionately on the arm. "'Cept you. You've done a real good job so far. But give it time. You'll get a good one in before you croak, don' you worry, and then you can die wrinkly and alone jus' like me. Eh, anyway… the slution… the so-_lu-_tion to all this..." she picked up one of the empty shot glasses and peered down into it, then slammed it down in front of Jiraiya, "is for you to buy me 'nother drink, you _cheapskate_."

"I think you've had more than enough," Jiraiya said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I _need_ to talk to you. You're in danger." He tried to gently guide her up and out of the booth, with absolutely no success.

"Who'd you think you are? My liver?" she exploded, suddenly belligerent. She batted his hands away. "Don't touch me. Don't _touch_ me!"

"Tsunade-sama, _please_ just go with him," Shizune pleaded. "He wouldn't have come if he knew it was something you could handle yourself."

Jiraiya finally resorted to pulling the table out so Shizune could coax Tsunade up enough to get an arm over her shoulders. Jiraiya settled her tab and waved Naruto and Sakura to follow him outside, though the service entrance that opened into the alley. "They'll be a little while getting their things together and checking out." He pulled a wad of small bills out of his pocket and handed them to Naruto. He tipped back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Run across the street and get her some coffee. Three cubes of sugar and no cream. Tsunade can accelerate her metabolic processes to clear the alcohol out of her system in a few minutes, but it makes her _really_ cranky."

When Naruto returned with the cup cradled in his hands, Shizune, Tsunade, Tonton, and their small amount of luggage were arrayed around the hotel's back door. Tsunade grabbed the coffee out of his grip, almost slopping it all over her hand. She paused with the styrofoam cup pressed to her lips and lowered it without swallowing any. "You're looking me in the eye instead of down my shirt, Jiraiya. This is going to be horrible, isn't it."

He checked the alley for eavesdroppers, sighed, and prepared to explain. "Shimura Danzō orchestrated a coup with Orochimaru's help. Yesterday he attempted to have the Candidate Hokage assassinated and blamed it on one of Orochimaru's plants. Itachi and his team got out, barely, but you know he can't let any of us live if he wants to keep hold of Konoha. I'm talking a full-scale, meticulously planned ANBU assassination attempt against you."

"Orochimaru and _Danzō_?" Tsunade said, incredulous. "You're joking. He spent years trying to track Orochimaru down for execution."

"My guess is that he was going to turn on Orochimaru as soon as Itachi was out of the way. He was probably planning it from the start of their alliance. At the moment, Konoha doesn't have a confirmed Hokage. He's got the likely new Fire Daimyo–the old one's nephew, an eighteen-year-old-kid–eating out of his hands, but he'll need all of us out of the picture if he wants the rest of the jōnin to confirm the appointment. We can't get back through the gateway from Mount Myōboku to Konoha. It's already been sealed off."

Tsunade took a sip of her coffee, grimaced, and then hurled the whole cupful against the wall. "God _dammit_!" she bellowed. "I knew it. Do you know how much I won on the slots last week? It was enough to shut up every collection agency after my hide from here to Kumogakure."

"Then come with us," Jiraiya said. "Uchiha Itachi and Kakashi are waiting for us north of town. Between the five of us we can find a way to–"

She shrugged off his hand that he'd extended to her shoulder. "No. Thanks for the warning, but count us out."

"What do you mean _'no'_!?" Naruto burst out. "Itachi's really sick and he needs–"

Tsunade winced at the volume. "I mean _no_. I'm not telling you how old I am, but I'm old enough…even if I don't look it. This isn't my fight any more. I'll take a look at this Uchiha–because Jiraiya came all this way–but that's it. Anyone stupid enough to try cleaning up the mess Sarutobi-sensei left behind when he died deserves whatever's coming to him. The only thing grabbing after that damn pointy hat gets you is misery… and an early grave." She hefted her backpack and spun on the high heels of her sandals.

There was a distant peal of thunder and the rain resumed its drumming against the rooftops. Naruto let the first drops slide down his checks, and then launched himself at her back with a snarl, his fist raised. She pivoted out of the way, without even glancing behind her, and tapped him on the shoulder with two fingers. He went sprawling like she'd swung a crowbar at him and slid into the muck coating the alley.

Sakura ran to help him up as he wiped the mud and blood from his face. "No one's getting away with saying that about my brother!" he screamed. "Take it back, you crazy old lady! Don't try to stop me, Sakura-chan."

"I'm not trying to stop you," Sakura said ferociously, hauling him to his feet. "Go for it. Hit her again. And when you're done, I want a go."

Tsunade only rolled her eyes at the empty threats and started walking again.

"I looked up to you!" Sakura growled at her back. "I read all the books and rented all the movies. When I was so tired from training I couldn't see straight, and trying to win against my teammates seemed impossible, what kept me going was reminding myself that _you _did it. You weren't just good enough to 'keep up' with all the boys, you were strongerthan they were. You weren't just one of the best kunoichi Konoha's ever seen. You were one of the best shinobi, period.

"I know what happened to you, during the war. But you know what? You're not the only person who's ever lost someone they loved. The difference between you and me is that I didn't abandon my teacher–my Hokage–or my village, and I don't plan to. Right now…" she swallowed and brushed away the rain collecting on her cheeks, "I'm a better shinobi than you are."

Before Tsunade could answer, Tonton darted past her, faster than her stubby legs would have indicated was possible. The pig pounced on something rustling faintly under a dirty newspaper and emerged with the black thing clenched in her teeth.

"Tonton, what in the–" Shizune began, kneeling down next to the pig to inspect what she'd caught. As Shizune reached for the squirming, squeaking thing, it exploded in a shower of dark fluid across her face and chest. She let out a shrill shriek, wiping hastily at the drops that splattered across her mouth. "It's ink," she said, and smacked her lips one more time around the ashy taste, spitting out what had worked its way onto her tongue. "Ink and blood."

"The three of you can work this out later; we have to get out of here," Jiraiya said, jogging forward. "Danzō's moving even faster than I thought. He must have sent out the assassination team even before the attack on the hospital."

"You've seen this technique before?" Shizune asked him.

He nodded. "They weren't one of Konoha's better-known shinobi families–they were too small–but they were pretty distinctive. Black hair, black eyes, pure white skin..."

"Like ink on paper," Shizune murmured.

"Yeah," Jiraiya agreed. "Nice people. Got most of my seal drafting materials from their art supply shop, at least until it burned down six or seven years ago. I thought the last of them died in the fire with their…" he furrowed his brows, "little boy. It doesn't matter now. I think we can bet Danzō knows we're here."


	26. Chapter 26

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 26 Oo.<strong>

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><p>The group scurried through the late afternoon shower, Tsunade grumbling all the way. Despite her foul mood, she kept a close eye on the ferns shivering beneath the light cadence of the raindrops. While the women had been readying their gear–exchanging their heels for more practical flat hiking shoes and buckling on their weapons holsters–Jiraiya had summoned a small army of drab, fist-sized toads to fan out and warn them of any ambushes or pursuit. In the damp of the forest they made the perfect scouts, almost impossible to see in the leaf litter and untroubled by the rain. Moving in pairs, one of each team could be summoned to Jiraiya's location to deliver information, and then called back by their partner to resume the scouting mission, allowing instantaneous communication.<p>

They left the road and continued to the basket-weaver's cabin following deer trails and streams. The clouds oozed below the rustling heights of the bamboo, shrouding the forest in mist, and the darkness deepened as the sun began to dip below the hills. When they reached a low formation of stone that created a natural clearing in the greenery, Jiraiya recalled his scouts for a report.

The first to speak was a female with three olive stripes down her back. "We saw at least ten Konoha ANBU leaving town a little after you did," she said. "No ninken, but they're still headed straight for you, and fast."

"Thirteen, by my partner's count," corrected another. "And one more peeled off after the main group left. He sent up something that looked like a messenger hawk but wasn't. One good hit and the thing just exploded, so we couldn't get a look at the note."

After taking the rest of the reports, which corroborated what the other toads had observed, Jiraiya thanked them and allowed them to return to their mountain home. The small species would have been in serious danger once fighting broke out.

"They must have a sensor," Jiraiya said. "We aren't going to be able to lose them."

"Why do we have to?" Tsunade asked. "It's been a while, fine, but I'm not that out of shape. If it's me they're after, Shizune can take the kids and rendezvous with Kakashi and Itachi. Killing Konoha shinobi leaves a bad taste in my mouth too, but I don't see that we have a lot of options here."

"It's me you're worried about, isn't it," Naruto spoke up. "He wants me back… or at least what's sealed in me."

Tsunade's brows pinched in brief confusion. She paced to where Naruto was standing and tipped up his straw rain hat. Grudgingly, he allowed her to brush her thumb over his cheek and scrub away some of the makeup concealing the whiskers imprinted on his face. "You _weren't_ born an Uchiha… you're Kushina's boy. And I have a pretty good guess who your father was."

"We take a stand here, then?" Shizune asked her.

Tsunade braced her hand on her hip, surveying what was probably the most defensible position for kilometers, and then nodded yes. "Tonton, you'd better scoot," she told the pig, crouching to speak to her nose-to-nose. "This might be messy. Is there enough of Jiraiya's scent trail left to follow back to the cabin?"

After the pig grunted an affirmative and trotted away, Naruto said, "Theirs might be better, but we have a sensor too. Sakura-chan, can you figure out how close they are?"

She closed her eyes to spread her chakra senses out to their utmost limits. "I think they're circling around to surround us. There's…" Breaking off to frown, she continued, "they're jamming me somehow. I can't quite…" She hissed in frustration. "Now they're gone. Completely."

Jiraiya pressed his palms together at the level of his sternum. "They won't be able to jam _this_." A sphere of translucent white chakra, thin as a soap bubble, spread out from his hands. The detection barrier melted into the drizzle and fog as it expanded outward from their position. Naruto and Sakura fidgeted with their kunai holsters as Jiraiya stood still in the mud for a minute, eyes closed. "Three underground, moving single file, at six o'clock. Two each at two o'clock and ten, both aboveground. I don't know where the others are–they're outside of my range. Shizune, a bank of poison mist would go a long way to thinning them out."

"In the still air I wouldn't dare use–"

"Naruto inherited Minato's elemental affinity, and his control is pretty good," Jiraiya interrupted. "He can direct it away from us. You kids stay between me and Tsunade. You don't stand a chance against ANBU assassins… and they're Root. If they're anything like the first crop Sarutobi-sensei shut down, they barely qualify as human anymore. After what Danzō's done to them, they'll show you no mercy."

"This poison is almost instantly fatal," Shizune told Naruto, as the youngest members of the group moved to the center of the formation. "Don't get in front of me and make sure every particle goes into the enemy formation and sweeps over it."

"Got it," he acknowledged, a little shakily.

"I'll take the ones behind us," Tsunade volunteered. "Jiraiya, how deep are they?"

His mouth slanted in a wry grin. "Not deep enough to be safe from you. I'll have to release the motion detection barrier as soon as they engage; takes too much concentration to hold up when someone's trying to kill me." There was a faint pop from between his hands, and he pulled them apart. "Shizune, on my signal."

The ground was soft with fallen bamboo leaves, and their opponents moved so silently they could have been ghosts stalking them in the twilight. Sakura's hands were trembling as they grasped her kunai.

"I'm not letting anything happen to you," Naruto mouthed to her.

Jiraiya glanced to his left, catching Shizune's eye, and dipped his head once. She raised her right hand and began counting down silently on her fingers. When they had all curled against her palm, she and Naruto wove their signs in unison and exhaled their jutsu. The gust of wind picked up the violet smoke Shizune released from her mouth and drove it onward. When it was clear of the open space before them, Tsunade stepped forward, her right fist clenched. The chakra concentrated in her hand was so bright it became a visible aura.

But before she could strike the ground, she screamed and threw her hands before her face, to shield herself from an assault no one else could see. The chakra in her hand dissipated. She stumbled back toward the group, frantically clawing an unseen substance from her lips and neck.

"Genjutsu," Jiraiya spat. "Times like this I wish Orochimaru was still–_get down_!"

He darted for Tsunade and enveloped them both in a white curtain of his hair, strengthened with chakra until it was tough as steel cable. More strands spiraled out to knock aside the volley of kunai that would have impaled Shizune and Sakura.

Naruto shrieked as he felt a hand close around his ankle. He was jerked backward as a chasm yawned beneath him. Sakura scrabbled back to solid ground, clawing for purchase in the wet leaves. Shizune dropped to her stomach at the lip of the pit, grabbed for his wrist, and caught him, but the rain had slicked her grip and she wasn't strong enough to hold on against whoever was pulling him down from below.

As her fingers squeezed tighter on his and then slipped them by, Naruto managed to dash off a single handsign as the earth poured over his head and he was dragged into total darkness. A few of the kage bunshin materialized above the pit, and more all around him in the artificial tunnel. Spitting dirt and leaves from his mouth, he struggled madly against the shinobi that had caught him. The clones started kicking and clawing at whatever they could, showering mud on the Root agents below and starting to collapse the tunnel on them all. One smacked his own lip, making him wince, but another's foot connected, hard, with one of the porcelain masks. The man grunted and his grip loosened enough for Naruto to wriggle free. The clones below ground pressed themselves against his abductors, and when the man found a foot, it didn't belong to the real Naruto. He clawed his way up the muddy tunnel walls and exchanged places with another kage bunshin at ground level, pulling himself to relative safety.

Without even moonlight to illuminate friend and foe, the battlefield was chaos. Blank white faces were everywhere, steel sang, and cries of pain were wrested from both sides. One of Danzō's men spotted him; he dove into the meager cover of a clump of ferns. He couldn't see Sakura but didn't dare call to her and draw the attention of even more Root after his skin.

As he emerged from the brush, an explosion of blue light briefly illuminated the scene, outlining Jiraiya's broad shoulders and wild man of hair. The whirling sphere splintered a swathe of the bamboo canes and tossed two of the assassins into the air, and did so with such force they couldn't find their feet again. Their ANBU masks were lined with rubber at the seams, and had two small, circular air filters mounted at either side of the chin–they'd come prepared for Shizune's poison techniques. The woman was nearer to him than Jiraiya, and had been pinned by a muscular man whose mask had been painted with the tusks and snout of a wild boar. He was bleeding heavily from a cut on his flank, but kept his balance against the downward pull of the injury. Shizune's fingers held no weapons but the blue glow of a chakra scalpel, which flickered and faded as he choked the life out of her.

Sakura was almost as filthy and terrified as he, but seemed–for the moment–uninjured. Boar's partner slithered out from the darkness and shot some kind of sticky rope at her from a mechanism mounted on his wrist as she hastened to retreat. It caught on the rain cloak she was wearing; she wiggled out of it and kept running, falling awkwardly onto one hand. The rope retracted and he aimed again.

Naruto whipped a brace of shuriken at him, barely pausing to judge the throw. None connected, and the attack gave away his position, but it had kept Sakura safe. He batted the ferns aside and sprinted for her. Even more Root began converging on him, calling to the others–wolves summoned by the baying of their pack.

He tried to dive but wasn't fast enough to evade an ANBU agent. The thick rope struck him in the side of the head and tangled in his hair with thousands of tiny hooks, like the barbs of a burdock seed. It bit at his fingers as he struggled to free it, and, where the minuscule points pierced skin, the flesh instantly went numb. The man who'd caught him gave a hard tug and he fell on his back, knocking the wind from his lungs. He bit down on his tongue and spat it on the ground, hurriedly forming the few handsigns required to summon before his fingers completely lost their feeling.

The toad that thudded to the ground was twice Naruto's height, with a charcoal body and patches of pale skin on its underbelly and hind legs. A stout wooden pole topped with a studded iron tip was its weapon, and there were more daggers strapped to the armored cuffs around its forelegs. It drew one of the daggers with its free hand and severed the hooked rope by driving the blade into the soft earth. It swatted aside the man who'd attacked Naruto, with bone-shattering force, and snapped out its sticky tongue at the one who was trying to strangle Shizune. He was jerked back enough she could gulp down a few invigorating breaths and renew the chakra scalpel. Still gasping for air, she sliced her hand across his throat and he fell in a spray of blood.

"Thank you," Naruto breathed, bobbing in gratitude in the toad's direction. During his training before the Chūnin Exams, Jiraiya had warned him the amphibians could be fractious and dismissive of new summoners. This one only nodded at him before wading into the melee surrounding Jiraiya. Naruto felt a swell of gratitude toward the creatures. Shima and Fukasaku must have warned the Toad Clan's best warriors they would likely be needed.

"Are either of you hurt?" Shizune asked hoarsely.

"I–" Naruto began. His arms and legs were going rubbery, and he was having just as much trouble controlling the muscles of his eyes. Their faces broke into a dizzying doubled image and reformed. He didn't even have to answer Shizune before she was reaching for his hands. She brushed her fingers gently over the rash that had bloomed on his palms. "It's only a tranquilizer; Danzō would want you alive. It should wear off on its own soon enough." She spun a kunai around in her hand. "Both of you, stay close to me."

He could just barely feel the demon inside him stirring, goading his organs into sweeping the toxin out of his blood and rendering it harmless, and within seconds the sick feeling in his head started its retreat. It seemed the Kyūbi didn't want to return with Root any more than Naruto did. Sakura knelt by him, her eyes full of fear.

"I'm okay," he assured her. "Whatever Jiraiya-sensei did to my seal this morning is still holding it back."

The Root shinobi had rallied from the arrival of their target's new ally. The toad batted aside one more assassin, before another sprayed a white powder into the air above it. The breeze carried a dusting to Naruto's face, and he hastily brushed the salty-bitter taste away. It burned where it touched the sensitive membranes of his lips and nostrils. It caught Shizune too, and she let out a clipped groan, grasping her left eye socket. Caught in a dense cloud of the chemical, the amphibian screamed like it had been thrust into a fire. It staggered to the side, blinded, and its flailing forelegs sent Jiraiya sprawling, momentarily stunned by the unexpected blow to the back of his head. It disappeared in a pillar of smoke to nurse its burns.

"Take Tsunade!" the Root captain called. "_Now_!"

Sakura looked to Shizune, who was still half-blinded, gasped, and sprinted towards Tsunade, skirting the cloud of corrosive dust as it settled into the muck. She skidded to a stop before the older woman and clamped her hands down on Tsunade's shoulders, shredding the illusion keeping her paralyzed with a flick of her chakra.

The smoke of the summon's departure cleared just enough Naruto could make out the silhouette of the Root captain… and the length of his katana, drawn and ready. "Sakura, _behind you_!" Naruto screamed. It had the force of the demon's rage behind it, echoing across the hills.

The warning wasn't enough. Before she could turn, the point pierced her back. The swordsman tipped it up and she slid off his blade to fall against Tsunade, who reached out automatically to catch her. Her hands contracted in the wetness that began spreading out from the wound.

Naruto shoved away Shizune's hands. The last of the poison in his veins burned away. "Tsunade! I don't know what mistakes you think you've made, but what matters is now–right now! _Get up_!"

She did not acknowledge Naruto's pleas as her opponent raised his sword to behead her, enmeshed in the vivid terror of old memories as they played out again both before and behind her glassy eyes.

"You're a shinobi! Her comrade! _Help her_!

The steel began its half-moon arc through the air. Still holding Sakura against her side, Tsunade's bare hand appeared in the path of the blade as it was about to kiss her neck. The metal crumpled in her grip as a few drops of her blood ran down the blade to the crossguard. She let Sakura to the ground and tugged the assassin forward. He released his ruined sword, but not quickly enough. Her stiff hand knifed toward his neck, and with only a tap she fragmented his cervical vertebrae.

She hefted one of the bamboo canes Jiraiya's rasengan had toppled and levered the sharp, splintered end like a spear. It was thrown with such force it impaled two of the three men still standing before Jiraiya and carried them meters away. He dispatched the last himself, with a quick blow to the temple, and stillness finally descended on the clearing.

Tsunade dropped beside Sakura, turning her on her back. The woman's hands trembled as she undid Sakura's obi and filled her palm with lifesaving chakra. Naruto went to his teammate's side as well, and took her left hand in both of his.

"Stop," Tsunade chanted to herself. "Stop, stop, stop, stop, _stop_…"

Naruto looked on, mute with anguish. The mantra continued until every second was stretched into its own eternity.

Beneath Tsunade's hand, the rents in Sakura's heart and lung sealed shut, the flesh obedient to Tsunade mastery of her discipline. The stain ceased expanding across the tatters of her clothing. She inhaled to cough, spitting out the blood pooling in her chest and throat.

"Don't you dare start blubbering," Tsunade snapped at Naruto, although her own eyes shining with the pain of old losses, and it was more than rain that wet her cheeks. "She's going to be fine. I got to her in time." Tsunade's voice dropped almost below the threshold of hearing. "I got to her in time."

Jiraiya paced in a hasty circle to tally up the corpses. "Seven. It was only seven. This isn't over." He rubbed the base of his skull, where the toad had accidentally struck him, his eyes darting about the darkened forest. His forehead crinkled as the pungent scent of wrath reached his senses. "Naruto, you're stronger than this," he scolded. "Don't let the demon use your pain. Sakura has the best healer in the world looking after her–she'll make it through."

"It's not me," Naruto whispered, twisting to face Jiraiya. He could feel it too, but pressing from the outside, not from within. His eyes were wide with concern for his teammate but still pure, sapphire blue. "It's not the Kyūbi!"

The weight of the inhuman chakra redoubled in intensity. The sun had long since set; the crimson light that was now peeking through the bamboo grove was not its rays. In the distance, heavy crashes began to reverberate across the hills. The stalks before them toppled as something viscous and sticky flowed across the ground, and a biting, noxious odor drifted between the leaves that made their eyes water.

Warned only by a wet snap from the direction of the light, Jiraiya raised a triple shield of compressed soil to protect them from the glob of corrosion that came sailing through the air. Tsunade didn't shrink from her delicate work or even flinch–the trust she had in Jiraiya's abilities was absolute. The acidic stuff ate through the earthen barrier as easily as seawater corroded a wall of packed sand. He thrust the contaminated earth away, coughing at the stench.

"Shizune, take over," Tsunade ordered, getting to her feet. She pressed the sleeve of her haori to her nose and mouth. "This smells like Katsuyu's acid. What in the _hell_ is that Rokubi slug doing with a Root–"

It closed the distance like lightning–the human container's own speed more than made up for the torpidity inherent to the beast sealed inside. The body beneath the shroud of light was female and stocky, but no other distinguishing features were visible beneath her ANBU mask and hooded gray coat. The three tails above her head were thick and bulbous, dripping globs of acidic, slimy chakra. Tsunade hefted one of the rocks scattered about the clearing and whipped it at her torso. It glanced off the light and landed in the distance, smoking. The jinchūriki countered with an enormous jet of water, compressed into a fan shape sharp enough to bisect fibrous plants that were still standing. Shizune and Naruto threw themselves bodily over Sakura to shield her from the clattering stems.

"Is it me you want!?" Tsunade screamed at it. "Come on, then! _Get me_!"

It rotated on all fours and bellowed an answer that was far more bestial than human. Tsunade paced backward and broke into a run as began slithering after her.

"You can't take a jinchūriki by yourself!" Jiraiya called, moving to pursue them. "Damn it! _Tsunade_!"

-ooo-

"Naruto-kun, there are still five ANBU unaccounted for," Shizune reminded him, bent over Sakura. "Comfort isn't what she needs right now."

He had kept her hand clasped tight, although the terrible wet sounds in her throat were retreating with every second she spent bathed in the healing light. Reluctantly, he rose. One genin against five of Konoha's finest–even with the toads' help, they weren't very good odds. Not very good at _all_. The only illumination was the distant lightning and flashes of the Sannin's jutsu over the line of hills. Even so far away, Naruto could feel the tremendous power of the battle as the earth shivered beneath his sandal soles.

He sent two dozen kage bunshin to fan out as his spies. If they detected anything or were dispersed by an ambush, he'd at least have some warning when their memories were tossed back into his brain. The net of clones spread out to intercept anyone trying to creep across the ground. Minutes trickled by without a sound. They might try coming from underground again, although that hadn't been terribly successful the first time. They might–_might_–be able to creep through the brush after all, if one of them managed to ensnare a few of his clones in genjutsu, but Itachi had taught him well, and to keep him oblivious would take a master indeed. That left…

Naruto craned his head, squinting into the bruise-colored clouds. The storm was finally abating, and the thunderheads concealing the moon had begun to thin. Against the crescent's light, he could just barely make out a small flock of birds outlined against the sky. He squinted. They were coming closer… and there were human shapes astride their backs.

"Shizune-san, they're coming! From the air!" he whispered forcefully. He had seconds, no more–no time to plan, only to act. Remembering how fragile the messenger bird had been, he inhaled as deeply as his lungs would allow and exhaled a volley of invisible knives. He held his breath for a moment, praying his aim had been true.

The wing of the leading bird parted from its body, and the whole shape lost cohesion in a shower of dark fluid. Another caught the first rider in the torso, and he and the smaller one that had been clinging to his back fell from the sky. The three that remained broke formation immediately, scattering so they were impossible to hit again. One swooped overhead and dropped a handful of flash grenades into the clearing the slug's attack had created. Shizune and Naruto were both momentarily blinded and deafened, and the ring of clones evaporated in the explosions.

The second dropped from his bird, flickered behind Naruto, and drove his hand against the base of his neck. Electricity sizzled across the web of nerves and all of his muscles contracted at once. His legs gave out and he toppled into the mud.

"I'll bind him. Kill the others," the leader ordered, as he dropped from the last bird and the construct melted into ink.

As Naruto's eyes readjusted, he could see Shizune had almost been overpowered by the third man–she was deadly with poisons, but close-quarters combat was not her strength. Her attacker kicked her feet out from under her and forced her to the ground.

His nerves screaming, he kept himself completely still, feigning semi-consciousness. If they thought that shock was enough to bring him down, they were wrong. The one in a dragon mask bent over him and locked something around his wrists. As he was pulled on his side, Naruto's eyes snapped open and he spat a bullet of air into the man's chest. It was no larger than a pencil, all the power he could manage without handsigns to focus the chakra, but it was so tightly compressed it was more than enough to pierce the light armor and tunnel through the flesh and bone beneath.

He slumped over, and the lizard mask brought his foot down on Naruto's temple, crushing his face into the mud. The one holding Shizune drew his tantō with one hand and grabbed a handful of her hair with the other, preparing to slit her throat.

"No…" Naruto breathed, so weak it came out a gasp.

And then… he noticed something strange. The breath it had taken to utter that single word condensed to steam in what should have been tepid summer air. Frost was racing across the ground, trimming the fallen leaves in white lace. A rectangular sheet of ice, no thicker than the first joint of his finger, crystallized above Shizune. A blur dropped out of it and knocked the Root assassin off her back. She flipped over and spat a poisoned senbon into his exposed throat as he tried to right himself. He hastened to pull it out, but within seconds was convulsing helplessly on the ground, and she easily finished him.

Another mirror crackled to life behind Naruto while Shizune was dispatching her attacker. The one restraining Naruto leapt backward to defend himself, and he finally got a good look at his savior. The tassels of hair that framed his effeminate features were such a welcome sight Naruto almost cried.

Haku palmed a trio of senbon and prepared to snap them into his opponent's neck when his body suddenly went rigid. He cried out in surprise and frustration. The Root shinobi raised his right fist, and Haku's arm mirrored the motions. Two of the senbon clattered to the ground and the third he rotated in his fingers until it was poised to pierce his eye. Naruto traced the thin line of shadow tethering Haku in place, and the second, that ended at his own feet.

"Let him go," another voice growled from the darkness. The tip of a longsword appeared below the mask to caress his neck, made of a white, glossy material Naruto couldn't identify.

"Don't let him catch your shadow or he'll–" Naruto said desperately.

His mysterious ally took one step into the Nara's peripheral vision, and was ensnared. The sword fell to the ground. His head swimming from the electric shock, at first Naruto thought the white-haired, white-clad man was a spirit. But his loosely belted robe, thrown off his shoulders to leave his torso bare, was begrimed with thoroughly ordinary mud at the ends of the sleeves. A Kiri hitai-ate was fastened around his forehead, the symbol split by a deep scratch in the metal.

"Paralyze me? Is that all?" he finished in a flat voice, raising his eyebrows in indifference. A dozen white blades erupted from his ribs and collarbones, skewering the last Root assassin. He choked and the shadow binding snapped loose. The tips of the bone spears parted from the shafts, which sank back into his skin, and the wounds closed over instantly. The dead man's mangled body slumped to the ground, bits of bone protruding from his torso and the eye holes of his mask.

"Are you all right?" he asked, crossing to Haku. He swept aside a lock of hair to assure himself the senbon hadn't done any damage.

"I'm fine, I'm _fine_, Kimimaro, stop fussing," Haku insisted, with a dusting of impatience. He took the taller man's hand in both of his and lowered it back to his side. "I may not be as indestructible as you are, but I'm not made of glass." He glanced at the corpse, looking slightly ill. "And you didn't have to go that far."

Kimimaro looked like he was about to object, but the nascent protests subsided. "I'm sorry." He looked to Naruto, narrowing his eyes. "I wasn't there to protect you in the mountains, so I…"

"Haku-san? How _are_ you alive? How are you _here_?" Naruto asked breathlessly, rising unsteadily to his feet. Haku gripped the chain linking the cuffs the bound Naruto's hands, encased it in ice, and tore the weakened metal apart.

"Naruto-kun, who are these people?" Shizune murmured. She'd gotten Sakura up into a sitting position, who sagged against her chest but was no longer coughing.

"It's all right, they're friends. I… think."

"To answer your first question, you can thank that old monk, Kosai-san–he stayed by my side until Mei and Ao got me to the hospital in Storm Country. To answer your second, we weren't tracking you." Haku gestured with his chin at one of the bodies. "We were tracking them. Pain-sama suspected Konoha took someone very precious to Akatsuki, and to we Kiri shinobi especially. This was the first lead we'd gotten on him for almost a year. Now can you tell me why on earth were you being attacked by your village's own ANBU?"

"We're all missing-nin. As of yesterday. Somebody inside Konoha just tried to assassinate Itachi, and the rest of us got caught up in it," Naruto explained. "And 'took someone'? What are you talking about?"

"The Rokubi was one of the two jinchūriki from Kirigakure, Naruto," Sakura contributed weakly. She raised her head a little to look at Haku. "But the person we saw was definitely a woman–I got a pretty good look before Jiraiya and Tsunade drew her off."

"Then Utakata is already dead," he whispered, pain sluicing down his face. He squeezed his eyelids shut and scrubbed away the sparse tears. "We have to warn the captain. Those two were Orochimaru's old teammates, weren't they? Once he realizes what's happened to Utakata, he'll try to kill any Konoha shinobi that gets in his way."

"Go. I'll stay with them," Kimimaro said. "You can reach him faster than I could."

"I'll send one of my kage bunshin with you," Naruto offered. "Jiraiya-sensei trusts me. He'd listen to what I have to say."

Haku nodded once and an ice mirror coalesced behind him. He grasped the hands of the clone Naruto produced, stepped back, and tugged hard to pull the extra mass through. The ice sheet shattered into dust as soon as they had passed.

Naruto rubbed a little of the residual chill out of his arms. When Kimimaro didn't seem inclined to put the first chip in the awkward silence, he said, "This Utakata… he was someone important to you? It wasn't just the bijū he was carrying inside him?"

"Yes," Kimimaro said softly. His remained composed, his hands clasped at the cloth bunched around the gray sash at his waist.

Naruto worried at that intriguing chink, coming a little closer to Kimimaro. "How did he end up with Akatsuki?"

"He escaped Kiri with his jōnin sensei, in the chaos after Madara died, and it wasn't long before Terumi Meï found him just like she found me." It was several seconds before he continued, and when he spoke again his eyes had focused on something far, far away. "We were all about the same age, and let's just say Haku and I had a better perspective on what it meant to be a jinchūriki than most people. We know what it's like to be given a power you never asked for and can't control, to be used as a weapon against your will, to be hated for something you can never change… even to harm those you love when you never meant to.

"All of us had been orphaned when we were young. The only family we had were people bound to us by friendship, not by blood. It isn't something many people can understand."

"I'd say I do," Naruto told him. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened to him."

"Naruto?" Sakura interrupted. "I think there are two people still out there, right at the edge of my sensing range. They're not moving, but…"

"Where?" Kimimaro asked, his head lifting and the muted grief sliding from his shoulders.

"I was the one that knocked them out of the sky; I know where they fell. Come on."

Together, they crept in the direction from which the ink birds had arrived. It was only a few minutes before they found their targets pressed against a half-circle of boulders. Both wore distinctive black jackets cropped at the ribs. From the wide track on the ground and the mud smeared on his thighs and belly, it looked like the smaller one had dragged himself to his partner's side. His mask was gone, shattered by the fall, and the sharp edges of the porcelain had sliced into the bridge of his nose and below his left eye. His right arm ended just above the wrist, cut through just as cleanly as all the straw dummies and wooden posts Naruto had practiced his ninjutsu on in his school days. Their medical packs had been torn open and the used syringes of painkiller were scattered on the ground.

The pale-haired one rolled his head up to look at them, making no moves to defend himself. He was taller than the boy huddled against his side, with the wider shoulders of a young man well into adolescence. Everything below the bottom of his jacket hem was soaked in blood, and Naruto clapped his hand to his mouth in horror as he identified the glistening mass spilling out of the rent at his hip bone.

"If you're here to finish me, go ahead," he panted. "I don't have long anyway."

"No, Shin-niisan!" the little one said, revealing a tantō clutched in his fist as he struggled to push himself upright. The drugs and blood loss had made him too woozy to even hold it properly, and the grip was awkward in his non-dominant hand. The edged wavered and dipped as his eyes struggled to focus.

Before Kimimaro could disarm him, it was Shin himself who grabbed his fist and lowered the blade, tossing it into the leaves. The boy collapsed against his shoulder again. "Sai… don't be angry at them. It's better this way," he whispered into the locks of black hair. "We won't have to take our final test, now."

"What test?" the boy asked.

"Hyō told me. Two go up the mountain, one returns. We weren't supposed to take it until next year, but with Torune dead… Danzō-sama needed to begin training his replacement."

"No… no, you're confused. Danzō-sama chose me for this mission because I was special. He trusts me… he trusts both of us. He said we were the best of–"

"Of course he did," Shin interrupted. "You are the best… but you're too soft. Too kind. He wants you to kill what makes you human, and then Root will have its perfect tool. You," he said brokenly, fixing his hollow eyes on Naruto. "You're the jinchūriki?"

"Yes?" Naruto answered, taking a step forward. He fixed his eyes on a weed swaying in the wind, unable to look on the ruin his jutsu had made of Shin's torso.

"I know your captains are going to want information. I don't expect you to spare him, but please… once they've taken what they need, have them send my little brother to join me as quickly and painlessly as possible."

"Brother?" Naruto murmured. "But Jiraiya-sensei said you Root were…" His throat started to ache in sympathy for the black-haired boy, who was clinging even harder to his partner's shoulder and quivering with tears. They couldn't have looked more different from each other, but what did that mean? Nothing. Nothing at all.

"That's enough," Kimimaro said. Bone shackles extended from his hands, drawing the younger one up and binding his ankles together and his arms to his sides. He groaned in agony as the motion jostled his injured arm, and the pain finally tipped him into unconsciousness. Kimimaro extruded another sword from the outer edge of his clavicle and leveled it at Shin's throat.

"He won't suffer," Naruto said, trying to crush down the tears. Shin's lips turned upward ever so slightly as he closed his eyes. Naruto turned away until he heard the crunch of cartilage parting and the ragged breathing had ceased. "I promise."

-ooo-

Tsunade avoided the slap of one of the slug's prehensile tails and landed in her blind spot, where neither her human eyes or bijū's eyestalks could reach. Power flooded into her fist as it fell. Her target managed to contort her body just enough that Tsunade's punch slid off the viscous chakra cloak, and she was launched into the air instead as the stone beneath them split and shattered upward. Tsunade leaped up with her and slammed a spinning kick into the woman's chest. She heard ribs crack and the body bounced against the rocks, once… twice… three times, before going still.

Landing with a sharp breath, Tsunade squeezed a little more power from the diamond printed on her forehead and the burns the vile chakra had inflicted healed over, leaving not even a scar.

"Jiraiya, I think I…" Tsunade began.

The Rokubi jinchūriki twitched and dug her fingers into the dirt. Bones set and fused and ruptured muscles knit themselves together. She pushed herself back up again, brought her hands together in three rapid signs, and screamed, whipping up a hail of dirt and debris as the fūton drew on the deep well of power within her. Tsunade bolted for shelter as her battle cry leveled a third of the bamboo in the small valley.

"…just made it mad," she whispered testily to herself.

A low hissing sound preceded her next attack, as the boulder Tsunade had crouched behind was struck by a spray of acid and melted into a puddle down the center. Tsunade clicked her tongue against her teeth. She was starting to run out of rocks, and a direct hit by that slime would be beyond even her ability to repair. Tsunade paced backward as the jinchūriki advanced, ready to spring away as soon as her lips so much as twitched.

Jiraiya had an escape already prepared for her as he appeared behind the waving tails. Tsunade recognized his chain of signs and danced out of the way as a fireball engulfed the slug. Another cloud of corrosive smoke rose from the battlefield as the flames contacted the slime, leaving both Sannin gasping. The chakra cloak was so strong she was barely singed, but Jiraiya did succeed in forcing her back, at least for the few seconds it took Tsunade to find a more defensible position. He tossed out a few smoke bombs to give them even more cover.

She shot a tendril of chakra at the source of the flame, capped with grasping, stubby-fingered hand. It grabbed Jiraiya's head and squeezed, trying to burst it like an overripe fruit. The shadow clone he'd substituted for his real body was dispersed as she crushed it.

Tsunade grunted in frustration as she landed beside Jiraiya. "How are we supposed to take her down?" she asked. "I can barely land a good hit on the damn slippery thing, and she's as durable as I am!"

"Giant bowl of stale beer?" Jiraiya offered.

"Jiraiya, I'm serious. We need to end this–I'm worried about the kids and Shizune. I don't care how weird the beard looks, can't you break out Sage Mode?"

"Would if I could, but toads are too sensitive to toxins–they absorb it through their skin and a cloud like this could kill ones as small as Shima and Fukasaku." He coughed, his face contorting in pain as the spasms jostled a burn their enemy had scored along his ribs.

"You're not doing so well either," Tsunade commented, her voice flippant, although her face was full of real concern. "How hard did you hit your head back there? Your reaction time is shot."

He shooed her worry away like a buzzing fly. "This is nothing, stop worrying," he said. "I'll pin it. You hit it." He jolted as another shadow clone was consumed, updating his mental map of the battlefield. "Break left and keep her attention focused on you. I'll take her from underground."

She did as he asked, drawing the undulating eyestalks in her direction with a few taunts–she was so far gone into the demon's rage it didn't take much. Wedges of rock sprang up to entrap her, leaving only her head free. She squirmed in the stone restraints, growling. Within moments the rock was smoking and she'd nearly worked her limbs free of the stone prison, aided by the slime. Tsunade wasn't going to give her the opportunity to get any farther.

She concentrated so much chakra in her fist the glow was blinding, and with a cry slammed it into Jiraiya's trap. When the breeze kicked up to part the dust left by the shattered rock, the chakra cloak had finally evaporated and the woman lay unconscious and broken in the pit.

Jiraiya levered himself up from the ground in which he'd been concealed. He brushed sticky soil off his sleeves and peered over the lip of the hole, bracing his forearm against a bent knee. "Ambushed by a jinchūriki and we still came out on top. Not bad for two old farts." He leaned a little closer, studying her battered face. The mask had been knocked loose by the last blow. It was a countenance that faded easily into the background, neither exceptionally comely nor exceptionally unappealing, and was framed by black hair that had been cut serviceably short. "Does she look familiar to you?"

"Not really," Tsunade answered, scanning the woman's face.

"There are only two shinobi families in Konoha that tend to throw out the odd kid with an affinity for wind-natured chakra–Minato was a sport. There's the Sarutobi, of course… and the Shimura."

"Wait, you aren't saying she…"

"Danzō was married very briefly when he was younger. One son. The kid was a few years behind us in the Academy, but never made it onto a genin team. He hated his old man's guts–don't blame him–and got the hell out of the shinobi life as soon as he could. He went on to become some kind of tradesman in one of the little farming villages around Konoha. A carpenter, I think."

"And you remember all this? Why?" Tsunade asked.

Jiraiya exhaled heavily. "Because the disappearance of that man's only child was one of abductions I helped the police investigate fifteen years ago. Almost all of them showed up in Orochimaru's labs in one form or another… he kept meticulous notes. But not her. Her body was never recovered. Not a trace of his daughter was ever found."

Tsunade looked again at the dark, unruly hair, cropped close to her years. "That bastard," she said under her breath. "What do we do with her now? She's too dangerous to take prisoner, too dangerous to leave here, and too dangerous to kill. It's impossible to reseal a bijū without a human sacrifice, and even then it's risky as–" Tsunade sputtered as the body dissolved into a puddle of corrosive slime, leaving a length of twitching tissue when a human form had been.

"Damn it! She must have figured out she couldn't win this and tunneled beneath us to escape. I'll go after–" Jiraiya started, but broke off as he felt something lurch beneath his geta. A tangle of dark roots burst from the mud and then raced across exposed surface of the valley like an erupting volcano. Tsunade ripped herself free of the black lianas that were trying to curl around her wrists and ankles, and then tore apart the vines Jiraiya hadn't been able to avoid. His hands freed, he shredded a circle around them both with successive waves of razor-edged rock.

A single tree sprouted from amidst the profusion of plants, and someone stepped out of the bole. The tree shrank back into a slender sapling, and then the branches retracted until it became a staff, hooked at each end, that fell into his fist. The young man was quite short, his hair a pale gray and caught in an ornate clip at the nape of his neck. A black scar split his left cheek from the lower eyelid to his chin.

Jiraiya swore when he recognized the pattern on the black cloak. "Yagura," he said. He spit the name out like a curse. "The world was a nicer place when I thought you were dead. What do you want with us?"

"What do you think I want? You took one of my comrades, and I am here to get him back. Surely that is something a shinobi of Konoha would understand?" His voice was breathy and far too soft to have issued the orders that had given his village the nickname the 'Bloody Mist', yet under the governance of the Yondaime Mizukage the village had been bathed in the gore of atrocity after atrocity.

Tsunade and Jiraiya shared a look of utter perplexity.

"The Rokubi was here," he pressed. "I can smell its poisons saturating this valley. You Sannin are here to subdue him, are you not?

"_She_ was here, all right," Jiraiya answered. "But as far as we can gather, she'd been sent on an assassination mission. The Sandaime Hokage has not and would never ordered the abduction of another village's jinchūriki. If you're trying to play us for suckers, don't bother. I don't think there's anything else left to say."

Yagura narrowed his eyes in the smoke of the battlefield, and all three of them moved at once. The wall of ice that rose to meet their jutsu broke from the mud with a cacophony of squeals and cracks. The newborn glacier grew so thick in so short a time it turned back both the fiery dragon and the towering briar, and Tsunade's fist only struck a superficial wound in the surface. It rose even higher and spread across the ground, forcing the combatants apart. Their footing was stolen from them as the ground bucked and froze.

Haku allowed the barrier to disperse into particles of chakra and disappear in gusts of shimmering snow. All his power spent, he dropped to his knees, gasping.

Naruto's clone bounded across the uneven surface, stumbling on the remaining ice. When it had reached the point halfway between Yagura, and Jiraiya and Tsunade, it spread its hands and screamed, "No more killing today! _No more_!" It took a step toward Jiraiya. "This man isn't who you think he is. He's no more of a monster than I am." It turned halfway around, to address Yagura. "And I know you Akatsuki want me alive. If you try to hurt them, you'll have to get through me first."

No one spoke. Finally, it was Jiraiya who unlinked his hands from an unfinished sign and raised them even with his shoulders. "I sure hope you're right about this, Naruto."

Yagura stood down as well, dropping his staff. He cast an apprehensive look at Haku.

"It's okay, go take care of him," Naruto's clone said, with a tilt of his chin. "He's not hurt. I think he just passed out from that jutsu."

Jiraiya stalked forward, took the clone's shirt in his fist and yanked it towards him. "You brainless… what are you doing here? We lured that thing away to keep you–"

"I'm just a kage bunshin, actually," it admitted. "The real me is still with Sakura and Shizune and one of their teammates. Haku and his friend saved us. We…" he winced, "captured one of the Root assassins."

"You were bluffing," Tsunade said to the clone, shaking her head.

"It worked. Come on."

He trudged to where Yagura was bent over his teammate. He had placed two fingers against Haku's breastbone, and power was flowing into his body through the tip of his fingers. The older man removed his hand and Haku sat up unassisted, looking positively spritely. "Thank you. That feels much better," he said with a grateful smile.

"You can transfer your chakra to someone else?" Naruto asked in wonder. "Isn't that really complicated?"

"Not mine," Yagura corrected, giving Haku a hand up. "Isobu's. So not really."

"Huh? Who?"

"My bijū, Naruto-kun. He has a name. As does yours, which someday I hope you are able to learn."

Taken aback by that unexpected tidbit of information, he let Haku take the lead in explaining what had transpired on their first meeting a year ago, and then the battle against the remaining Root shinobi. Even after the beginning of their unlikely allegiance had been recited to Jiraiya's satisfaction, his remained dubious of Yagura's intentions.

"I'm a traveler," Jiraiya said quietly. "I've been from one end of this continent to the other, and nowhere I have _ever_ set foot in was more horrific than Kirigakure under its fourth Mizukage. That place was hell on earth." He looked down at Naruto's clone. "I don't care what Haku did for you, I am not following this butcher anywhere for any reason."

"He isn't a–" Haku corrected vehemently.

"It's all right," Yagura said, restraining him with a touch on the upper arm. "I gave up trying to free myself from Uchiha Madara's control. I could have fought harder against his genjutsu; I didn't. I'm not wholly blameless for the crimes he committed in my name." His face somber and penitent, he continued, "If you are both Naruto's comrades, and enemies of the man who now appears to be Hokage, neither myself nor the leader of Akatsuki have any quarrel with you."

"That's easy enough for you to say," Jiraiya snapped. "We lost a lot of good people when _your_ comrades decided to unleash the Ichibi in the middle of Suna… including my teacher and Naruto's adoptive parents."

Yagura looked genuinely remorseful to hear that news. "You knew this, yet came here with Haku to stop us anyway?" he asked the boy.

"Yes," Naruto's clone answered.

"Orochimaru betrayed his partner and Amegakure just like he betrayed his homeland," Yagura said. "There are teams hunting him in Oto as we speak." He placed his hands together at his waist and bowed to the kage bunshin. "I'm sorry, for what's happened. It was never Pain-sama's intention for any of that to befall you, Naruto-kun."

"Why not?" Tsunade asked, puzzled. "What does he care what happens to a single genin from an enemy village?"

"I don't know," Yagura admitted as he straightened. "But nevertheless, he does. Pain-sama is a very reclusive man. He speaks solely through representatives–his partner is the only one among us who has seen his face or even knows his true name–but he has been very generous to we exiles from Kiri, and I imagine he would do no less for you. Jiraiya-san, Tsunade-san–I understand that you have few reasons to trust me and a great many not to, but I would like to extend an invitation to you and your companions to return with me to Amegakure. Storm Country's borders are well guarded, and, at the very least, your wounded would have a safe place to rest and recover."

"We'd need to talk this over with the others," Tsunade said.

Jiraiya pulled Naruto's clone a little to the side. He scrubbed at cheeks with one hand. "Like I said, I sure hope you're right about this."

"Itachi was afraid the Akatsuki were planning to steal my bijū," Naruto said. "He thought they meant to kill me. Now we know that isn't true. They weren't chasing after the slug because they wanted it for its power. They were after Root because Danzō took their friend. I don't think this Pain ordered his shinobi to kidnap any of the jinchūriki that've disappeared. I think… he meant to rescue them."


	27. Chapter 27

We now return to your regularly scheduled biweekly Friday updates, or at least we do until this fic ends or I am eaten by bears. Whichever comes first.

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><p><strong>Continuity Disclaimer<strong>: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

**Beta Credits**: HakorTheEgyptianPharoah

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 27 Oo.<strong>

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><p>"If we're going to be here a few hours to lick our wounds, Shizune and I will need light, clean water, and a dry place to work," Tsunade announced, hands on her hips. "Naruto, send one of your clones to lead Itachi and Kakashi back here. I'll send Katsuyu with you to stabilize him remotely if he's taken a turn for the worse."<p>

She looked out over the battle-scarred clearing, littered with bloodied weapons and fallen bamboo. Her eyes circled back to where Yagura and his subordinates were standing in the loose ring of people. She lifted her chin toward him in a thinly veiled challenge.

"The corpses are going to need to be dealt with as well. There may be sensitive information in their equipment, so I hope you three won't mind finding something else to do with yourselves until I've patched up Jiraiya and we've given them a proper burial?"

Kimimaro bristled at the discourtesy toward his captain, but after a strained pause, Yagura accepted her request without complaint.

"Haku, Kimimaro, both of you have a rather good eye for wild roots and greens, and I'm sure we would all appreciate a good meal. Naruto-kun, if a few of your kage bunshin were to accompany them, the extra help wouldn't be unwelcome," he offered, glancing at Tsunade. Since that seemed to satisfy her, he added, "I have to update to Pain-sama about the situation in Konohagakure as soon as possible; after I signal him, the communication technique takes some time for him to prepare. Incidentally, I can also answer the question of shelter."

He took a dozen steps away and pressed his palm against the earth. The ground trembled slightly and ebony beams sprouted from the ground, bending and splitting to form a spacious, if crudely finished, cabin and a matching covered well.

Yagura dusted off his hands and said, "There's dry wood already inside, next to the hearth, and what ought to be more than enough torches for you to work. The prisoner can be sealed into one of the rooms when you're done tending to him. Will that be sufficient for your needs?"

Tsunade stepped up beside him onto the first stair and knocked a knuckle against one of the beams.

"You're being suspiciously helpful and pleasant for a murderous despot," she whispered sideways. "Naruto is a sweet kid, but he's as naive as a new cocktail waitress on her first shift. I will concede that it's _possible_ that it was Madara, not you, who was responsible for turning Kirigakure into the hellhole it's become, but I'm a long way from convinced… and you are _very_ outnumbered." Her point made, she turned to address the group again. "Shizune, do you need any help stabilizing the prisoner?"

"Don't think so, Tsunade-sama," she replied, from where she was keeping watch over the heavily sedated boy laid out at her feet. "I managed to stop the bleeding, and his blood pressure is edging back into acceptable."

"All right, Jiraiya, come on," she said, beckoning him to follow her after Yagura, Kimimaro, and Haku had entered the building and lit the torches mounted to the interior walls. "Let me see how hard you knocked that thick head of yours."

Shizune lifted her small patient in her arms and carried him to one of the side rooms to continue working on his more minor injuries. Leaning heavily on Naruto, Sakura made her way in last. He let her slip down to the polished wood floor of the largest room, near the fire pit. She curled up on her side, pillowing her head on her damp raincoat. Naruto untied her bedroll and shook out the blanket over her, then began arranging the kindling in the sand that filled the central hearth.

"How are you doing?" he asked her quietly, over the bickering drifting over from the two older shinobi in the corner. They were well-worn complaints, and despite the annoyance bubbling through Tsunade's voice, she was more animated than Naruto and Sakura had seen her all day.

"Pretty… okay, considering," she murmured, trying valiantly to muster a smile for Naruto. "Shizune gave me an injection of something, so it doesn't hurt much. I'm just really, really tired and my head feels fuzzy."

She blinked into the first of the flames after Naruto had coaxed them from the arrangement of wood and bark. When her fingertips strayed to the sticky mess on her shirt, Naruto caught her hand and brought it back down to the floor. "Don't think about it… Don't. Tsunade was here, and you're gonna be fine." He massaged some warmth into her fingers, which were chilled by the blood loss. "Be right back, after I do something about all this mud. I'll bring you some water to clean up too."

In the corner, Tsunade had pronounced the blow to the head Jiraiya had taken to be minor, and moved to the burn on his side. The Rokubi's chakra was so corrosive it had partially disintegrated the chain links of the armor he was wearing underneath his borrowed farmer's clothing.

She helped him unlace the fastenings on his shoulders and side, and then sent a pulse of chakra into the top layer of nerves to numb his skin. Very delicately, she peeled the chainmail away. Tsunade hadn't needed her field kit in a long time, but devotion to the practices she had instilled in the ranks of Konoha's medics had kept it in good repair. She unrolled her case of surgical tools and selected a pair of fine tweezers to begin removing debris from the wound, sterilizing the tips with a pinch of chakra between her fingers.

"It's been a while since we saw action like that together, hasn't it," she said, almost wistfully.

"Almost–ow!–twenty years," Jiraiya said, flinching as she plucked out a bit of fabric and tapped it off her instrument.

"I bumped up the anesthetic a bit… that better? That thing's chakra was nasty. The tissue damage goes deeper than a normal thermal burn." She smiled to herself and added, "You're still in pretty good shape for fifty-one."

"Likewise. You hit that slug almost as hard as you hit me way back when we were chūnin."

"Oh shut up," she said, straightening from her work. "You know I _still_ feel horrible about what happened at that onsen. When a kunoichi sees a blur in the bushes her first instinct is to punch it through the wall first and ask questions later. It was an accident. I thought you were the leader of that Suna team that had been tailing us all day."

"You know it's a funnier story when you leave that part out."

"Tch. It makes me sound like a madwoman," she grumbled. "And no one questioned it… It's practically village legend now! Do they honestly think I would beat a good friend nearly to death just because his brains sometimes come loose and get lodged in his prick? Idiots."

"Look what you've been known to do to desks when you're angry. Stands to reason," he asserted. "And nobody's tried to cop a feel since then, have they?"

Tsunade's surly expression sweetened, and a hearty chuckle overflowed from her ample chest and into the air around them. "They haven't. I know you put the last tattered scraps of your dignity on the chopping block for me. What more could a teammate ask?"

-ooo-

Haku and Kimimaro returned just as Naruto had finished scrubbing off the worst of the mud. He hauled up one more bucket of well water to accompany the armfuls of young bamboo shoots and wild herbs they'd gathered. Haku and Kimimaro set their harvest down next to the hearth, and Haku and started unpacking his cooking equipment.

"Would you help me peel these?" he asked Naruto quietly. Sakura stirred from her restless sleep as he sat down, but drifted off again without speaking. "They make a more-than-decent soup as long as you cut away the tough and woody parts."

"Sure," he answered, pulling a spike out of the pile. Following Haku's example, Naruto worked his thumbnail under the outer layers, peeled them off one by one, and discarded them. The work was tedious, but calming in its monotony. When they were nearly finished and the pot of fragrant water was bubbling over the hearth, Naruto paused in his work and said hesitantly, "Haku-san?"

"Hm?" he asked, concentrating on shaving thin circles of the vegetable into the pot with a small knife.

"I'm so sorry about what I did to you, back on that mission last year. I really owe you, and now you've saved my life again."

"It's in the past. You were frightened and in terrible pain… I don't blame you for hurting me." Putting the knife aside, he pulled the fabric of his green shirt up to his sternum. "Barely even scarred."

"You're forgiving me? Just like that?" Naruto asked in disbelief, as Haku picked up the small blade again. He glanced timidly at Kimimaro. "He told me you understood what it meant to be a jinchūriki better than most people. What does that mean?"

Haku's hand tightened on the knife's handle, but he did answer the question. "What you have to understand is that Water Country isn't like your homeland. It's poor, especially in the north, and has suffered terribly in civil war. The people hate and fear shinobi, especially those with kekkei genkai."

"I met a couple of them during the Chūnin Exams—so I can see why," Naruto said. "They were pretty horrible people. Bullies. Even to their own comrades. And the shark teeth… that was _creepy_."

"The teeth aren't the worst of it," Haku murmured. "The children born in that village are taught that devouring the weak is the only way to grow stronger. They have no empathy, no kindness, no generosity. They take whatever they want from those who are less powerful—food, money, even slaves. My parents taught me to fear them more than anything else in the world.

"The Yuki clan—the hyōton users—were the worst of them all. They didn't even need an excuse to rape and butcher during the wars. The other villagers used to say that their hearts were as cold as the ice they could shape."

He rubbed at his arm, and shivered, despite the lingering summer. "What they didn't know–couldn't have known–was that my mother, the daughter of a brothel girl, carried the hyōton. Her father must have been a Yuki shinobi, and a powerful one. And she passed her kekkei genkai on to me. Growing up with my parents, I had no idea what I had sleeping in my blood. A quiet life in a fishing village was the only thing I knew.

"Until one day, I... I heard the water calling to me, from the half-frozen stream behind our cottage. It came when I asked it. I showed my mother, thinking she'd be proud of me. She called me cursed and beat me instead. She'd never struck me before–I was so confused and so hurt I didn't know what to do.

"But it was too late. My father had seen. He came back with the other men of the village, armed with sickles and clubs. My mother tried to shield me, but there were too many and they were strong, and they pulled her outside. They came after me, and… when I woke up, our home was full of ice and blood.

"There was nothing to do but run. I lived on the streets, sleeping in doorways and stealing to survive." His face contracted with revulsion. "Doing _anything _I needed to do to survive. Forgiving you was nothing compared to forgiving myself. Even after all these years, I still…"

"That's one of the saddest stories I've ever heard," Naruto whispered. "What happened to you? After you had to leave?"

A faint smile cracked through the sadness on his face. "I was half dead of pneumonia when Mei-san found me. At first I was so frightened of her and the men under her command that I tried to run away as soon as I could stumble out of bed. But she and the shinobi that followed her weren't like the ones I'd been taught to fear so much. She was powerful, but used her power to protect the weak instead of torment them. She'd been collecting children like me, the ones who were thrown out of their homes or locked up in cages for the shame of having kekkei genkai." He looked sideways at Kimimaro, sharing a private memory. "She trained us. She made us strong. And she taught us that we were _worth_ something, not as anyone's tools or anyone's weapons, but as human beings. We learned that we deserved love and respect no matter what people thought of us."

"She sounds like she would have made an amazing Mizukage," Naruto said. "Almost like the old man, in a way… like the Sandaime Hokage."

"We thought so," Kimimaro said, breaking from his work. "Your teacher inspired her to try to bring Kirigakure back to the way it had been under the Niidaime, when people didn't cower in fear when a shinobi passed them by. But the faction led by Hoshigaki Kisame was too powerful. He had all of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist on his side. We lost a lot of people, and eventually she decided her revolution wasn't worth all of our lives. Most of the men left–threw away their hitai-ate and got work as mercenaries. A few of us stayed, to help her try again when the time was right."

"The orphans and runaways like us had nowhere else to go. We stayed," Haku continued. "A few months after we left Water Country, one of Pain-sama's representatives contacted her with a proposition. She accepted, and Amegakure took us in. We've been there ever since, doing whatever he's asked of us."

"What's he like?" Naruto asked.

Haku shrugged, apologizing for his ignorance, and turned his attention to the meal, giving the soup a few stirs with his spoon. "I think he cares for his city and the people he commands… but he frightens Mei-san, and she could match any kage of the greater nations. I've never seen him fight, so I couldn't tell you why."

Shortly after, Haku declared supper ready. Although he had gone through the trouble of preparing it, he ate very little and without enthusiasm. After a few minutes, he murmured an excuse to Naruto and disappeared into one of the other rooms. Without speaking, Kimimaro laid his unfinished meal aside and got up to follow him.

"Leave them be," Sakura said sleepily, snagging Naruto's pant leg with her finger as he rose to follow. "I think they want to be alone."

"He lost a friend, I know, but I just wanted to tell him–"

"It's kind of adorable how bad you are at picking up on this stuff."

"_What_ stuff?"

"You'll figure it out eventually. And don't be a jerk to him when you do."

Relenting after her cautionary words, Naruto settled back on the floor and crossed his legs to finish the rest of his soup. Despite being depressingly vegetarian, it wasn't bad, and he rinsed out his bowl and refilled it. There was one more apology stuck in his throat.

-ooo-

The prison cell Yagura had grown from the wall of the smallest of the cabin's rooms was mostly for show. Heavily weakened by blood loss and stripped of his weapons, inks, and paper, the sole survivor of the assassination team wouldn't have been able to get far. Yagura was standing guard outside the door, waiting for Shizune to finish checking the boy's vital signs so he could seal the organic cage behind her.

"Food's ready, there's plenty," Naruto said to them both. "And… how is he?" he added, to Shizune. "Do you think he'd want something to eat?"

Shizune looked puzzled at his concern. "He'll live… at least long enough to get some information out of him. Besides the amputation, it was a bad fall. He broke a few ribs and sprained his right ankle. What I gave him for the pain was pretty strong, so I don't know how coherent he's going to be."

"If you're here to question him, don't bother," Yagura said. "I tried. There's a seal on his tongue that induces total-body paralysis if he tries speaking about classified topics. Although young, he seems to have been in Danzō's confidence." He urged the wooden slats to join again with the wall after Shizune collected her equipment. "It doesn't really matter what precautions Root has taken; Pain-sama could extract the necessary information if you were to bring him to Amegakure. The boy is an expendable prisoner."

"No!" Naruto barked.

"No what?" Yagura asked, regarding his outburst and the soup that had slopped onto the floor with a touch of irritation.

"Nobody should use the words 'boy' and 'is expendable' in the same sentence," Naruto said fiercely. "Just let me talk to him before anybody does any extracting, okay?"

"If you wish," Yagura said, and left.

Someone had already claimed Sai's weapons and added them to their own stores, leaving Sai with only his muddy, bloodstained outerwear, an empty scroll and inkwell, his brush, and a book. Anything important wouldn't have been left here, so, curious, Naruto pulled the book out of the pile and brushed some crumbs of mud from the cover. He opened to a random page in the center, which was blank. He flipped to the front and let his thumb come to rest once drawings began appearing on the pages. Only a quarter or so of the book had been filled, working inward from both covers. There were no words, but the beginning of a story was being told in the bold strokes of ink, triumphs against beasts and warriors of myth and legend. Inside the front cover was written '_For my little brother. Happy birthday._'

Naruto tucked it into his jacket, so it wouldn't be thrown away with the rest of Sai's ruined gear. He knelt before the cage and pushed the bowl of soup through a gap in the bars. Sai didn't stir from under the blanket to take it.

"What's your name?" Naruto asked, linking his ankles in front of him.

His eyes flickered upward for a moment, but that was all the reaction the question elicited.

"Your name?" he asked again.

"I told the man in the black coat already–Danzō-sama told me I was Sai."

"That's not what I meant. Your real name. The one your family called you."

"I forgot. A long time ago," he whispered.

"Well, I asked Jiraiya-sensei, and he remembers," Naruto told the blank-faced boy. "Your parents were friends of his. Your father was a shinobi of the Kakejiku clan; the name he gave you was Keta. He retired when you were born to open up a little shop with your mother–she was a civilian, a papermaker. They sold supplies like scrolls and sealing ink to shinobi, and paint and paper to artists and bookbinders and calligraphers, too. Jiraiya-sensei said you used to sit on the counter while your mother helped the customers, scribbling away on pads of paper almost as big as you were. Sound familiar?"

"I don't remember them," he said dully. "Or our home, or this shop. That name means nothing to me." He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders with his good hand. "I want to be Sai. That was what Shin-niisan called me."

Naruto opened his mouth to explain, to apologize, to say _something _that would make the pain he could feel so keenly evaporate like it had never been. He could make sure Sai kept his life, even restore his lost limb, maybe, but Sai could still loathe him if he wanted to. That was his right. To steal a beloved brother was a crime that verged on impossible to forgive.

"Danzō tried to erase your past, your family, your friends. He's hurt you as much as he's hurt me, all so he could keep your loyalty, _force_ it out of you." Naruto swallowed. "I think that says a lot about that old bastard, don't you? Makes you wonder what he's so afraid of.

"I… I just lost my brother too, and I know you probably hate me for what I did. I don't blame you at all. Nothing hurts like losing family. We're enemies, I guess, but that was just chance. If your parents had gone out with you when the fire started, we'd probably have ended up in the same Academy class. Maybe we would've been friends, even teammates.

"If Jiraiya-sensei can get that seal off your tongue–and I'm sure he can, he's _good_–will you talk to him? Tell us what we need to know to keep Danzō from doing what he did to you to anyone else, ever again? If you can do that, I can protect you. No torture, no execution, nothing."

Sai didn't answer him.

"You don't have to make up your mind right away. Just think about it."

-ooo-

Through the thin bandaging over his eyes, Itachi could feel the warmth and light emanating from the doorway before him. One of Naruto's kage bunshin had arrived at the basket-weaver's cabin with Katsuyu tucked into his raincoat, to lead them to the battlefield and relay the news of their odd alliance. He ascended the cabin steps with Kakashi's guidance and followed the unfinished wood of the railing and walls deeper into the building. He made for the woman's voice, sharp like a whipcrack, which could only be Tsunade. Naruto and Sakura's familiar chakras were hovering nearby. He could sense Yagura's as well, in the room farthest from him. He was blazing white-hot with power, although it was well restrained, without the erratic flares he had sensed from an unstable jinchūriki like Gaara.

Tsunade was leaning against the doorframe before him, regarding him curiously.

"It's an honor to finally meet you, Tsunade-sama," he said, with superficial pleasantness and a cutting emphasis on the word 'finally'. She hadn't set foot inside Konoha since he was a toddler.

Tsunade didn't miss the jab, but also did not meet it with her legendary temper. "In here, please," she said quietly. "This is the infirmary, more or less. Sakura's asleep. Try not to wake her."

Kakashi hung back by Naruto and Shizune, who were sitting near the hearth. He placed his hand on Naruto's shoulder, giving it a considerate squeeze. "You okay?"

Naruto mumbled an affirmative.

Relieved, Kakashi settled against the edge of the fire pit and reached for a bowl from the small stack. "Been a while, Shizune-san."

"It has," she answered, coolly polite.

"Last time I talked to you was the Chūnin Exam I got promoted, wasn't it?" He stopped just before ladling soup into the dish, thinking back a little further. "…and I broke your nose during our match, didn't I?"

"You did."

"I know it's about fifteen years too late, but sorry about that. Healed up fine. You can't even tell."

Silently, Itachi had permitted Tsunade to take him by the elbow and lead him to the workspace she'd carved out. He sat down where Tsunade stopped while Kakashi and Shizune continued their quiet reminiscence. She laid two fingers on each temple and the throbbing pain in his head cut off like the power switch on a radio. She continued working for several more minutes, asking terse questions about what did and did not hurt as threads of healing chakra worked their way into the incisions. There was an odd stinging, taut sensation deep in his eye sockets, which gradually relaxed as her chakra permeated and repaired the tissue.

She pulled the end of the bandage free and wound it loosely around her left hand. "All right, the moment of truth. Tell me how they did."

He could see a diffuse brightness through the lids and pried them apart. Although blurred for a moment, the picture around him sharpened into perfect clarity as his eyes adjusted to the torchlight. He could make out each thread on Tsunade's haori, the grain of the ebony beneath his crossed legs. He activated his sharingan, and another burst of information poured into his head, as clear as it has been when he was a child.

Naruto was staring at him, chewing on his lip. Itachi met his eyes for a moment, only a moment, and nodded yes to his unspoken question.

Finally, the Mangekyō. "Stay back, please," he said to Tsunade. He got to his feet and brought his dōjutsu to the final level, bracing himself for surge of pain that never came. Summoning the most compact version of Susano's ribcage put the same strain on his chakra reserves as it had before the transplant, but his eyes remained dry. He banished the armor and then the Eternal Mangekyō, and the room returned to normal.

"It has six points now, and the color reversed," Kakashi said, holding the untouched bowl of soup. "Like Mikoto's." When he spoke, it was without any anger and only a nebulous nostalgia. It was the same tone and expression he used when he talked about Obito, or his father, or his sensei.

Guilt stabbed into Itachi's chest, for ordering him away from Mikoto's hospital room the night of her death. His mother and stepfather had been the third set of parents fate had snatched away from Kakashi. But he could endure, like he always had. The urge to cough rose in Itachi's throat but was crushed. What he had done was unforgivable and fate was already coming to collect. The order had been for the best. Distance was best.

"The procedure appears to have been a success," he said blandly. "Thank you, Tsunade-sama."

He went to Sakura's makeshift bed. She'd changed back into her crimson uniform; the borrowed peasant's clothing that matched what Naruto still wore was evidently a complete loss. The kage bunshin that had fetched him had been cagey about severity of her injury; Naruto had probably been too frightened to admit it to himself. Itachi was too experienced for such comforting denial. If she hadn't been within arm's reach of such a talented medic, he knew they would have been burying her.

"She'll make a full recovery with a few weeks' rest," Tsunade said. She looked down at the dozing girl. "And I know why you picked her to fill out your team. I think she might have saved my life."

"Sensei?" Sakura murmured, stirring from her bed.

Itachi didn't allow her to rise, kneeling to push her back down. "Yes, it worked. You were badly injured; you need sleep." He rose again and went for the door opposite the one he'd come in, keeping conversation to a minimum. If she blamed him for thrusting her into this horror, and hated him for the coldness he'd shown her over the last few weeks, so much the better. He ached to stay with his last two students, to comfort them bathed in the fire's warmth, but a shinobi learned to deny themselves many things.

As he reached the threshold, Sakura said, "You were going to ask her about your cough, too, right?"

"Cough? What cough?" Tsunade asked, suddenly on alert. "I thought you might have been running a low-grade fever, but you Uchiha tend to run hotter than average so I wasn't sure. How long has this been going on?"

"A few weeks. My lungs were injured earlier this year and a cold took longer than usual to shake off. It wasn't something I planned to trouble you with."

"I get to decide that," Tsunade said. "Chest pain?"

"No," he answered, his back still to her.

"No other symptoms?" she pressed. "Not even what we in the medical profession refer to as 'generally feeling like crap'?"

"I am perfectly–"

"Yes, he does," Kakashi said for him, "whether he was planning to admit it to you or not."

Itachi gave him a withering look, finally turning around. No apology from Kakashi was forthcoming.

"Thought so," Tsunade said. "Take off your shirt and sit down again, I need skin contact."

"You're being absurd. There are more pressing concerns tonight, I would think?"

"You've officially become my patient," Tsunade reminded him, crossing to shut the open door with a snick of finality. "That means I am not putting up with any protests, lies, or self-destructive heroics." She jabbed her finger in the direction of Itachi's chin, looking him dead in the eye. "I might be a washed-up, debt-ridden old drunk, but you don't scare me, prettyboy. Shirt off so I can examine your lungs. _Now_."

"Nii-chan, please," Naruto pleaded.

Tsunade kept right on staring, not looking even remotely like she could consider backing down. Defeated, he found his seat again, pulled his shirt over his head, and swept his hair over one side of his neck. She sat down behind him and pressed her palms against his skin, moving down one side of his chest and up the other. Unlike other medics, she needed nothing to sense a disturbance in a body's natural patterns but her hands, mind and chakra.

"Hmm," Tsunade grunted, lingering over a spot beneath his left shoulder blade.

"Could you please clarify?" Itachi prompted, when she added nothing else.

The glow faded from her hands after a few more seconds, and she dropped them into her lap, looking grave. "You feel terrible because you have the beginning of tubercular lesions in your lungs."

Sakura whimpered. Cringing at the pain it caused her, she pushed herself up. "Tuberculosis? Sensei... you already knew, didn't you? That's why you were taking all those cough suppressants, wasn't it?"

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "Both of you, stop this nonsense right now. There will be absolutely no dying-sensei-to-heartbroken-students conversations on my watch. Since I caught it so early the infection is perfectly curable–not even a speck of serious scarring. If he'd shown up two or three years from now hacking up necrotic lung tissue I wouldn't have been able to help, but I can fix this in my sleep."

"I—wait... you can?" Sakura asked in a small voice.

Tsunade sniffed and crossed her arms under her chest. "Don't insult me, girl. Tuberculosis is still dangerous and still all over the damn place, but if you have access to a good medic and the right drugs it isn't the death sentence it used to be." She lowered her voice until it was inaudible to all but Itachi over the shifting wood in the fire. "Which you, as Godaime, would've had."

"Sakura told me you were sick even before we had to leave Konoha," Naruto said, his voice leaden with disappointment. "She's been so worried about you. How long did you plan to keep going like this? A month? A year? Until you… until you…?" He was too numb for tears. "You promised you weren't going to leave me alone. You lied, didn't you?"

In the fireplace, a log gave way and sent a cloud of sparks up the chimney. The sound tore Naruto loose of the paralysis and he shot to his feet, slamming the front door behind him and thumping down the stairs.

The crack against the doorframe jostled Kakashi out of his own daze. "Naruto? Naruto! Don't go off alone!" he called, hurrying after him. He stopped in the hall, giving Itachi a look of intermingled despondency and disgust.

Itachi took the opposite door, which led out to the porches on the back. Tsunade followed him. "I have nothing to say to you, Tsunade-sama," he said coldly.

"I know you don't like me. The feeling is pretty much mutual. But I want one more question answered. The staff at the Konoha Hospital could easily have treated you. If there had been no assassination attempt, did you even intend to get this checked out while they could've still done something for you?" She grabbed him by a handful of his shirt. "_Well_?"

He placed his fingers on her wrist, with no pressure yet, but the promise building. "Why are you assuming I owe you an answer to that question?"

She twisted the fabric in her fingers and slammed him against the wall. "Tuberculosis is _communicable_, you selfish bastard! Once the bacteria turns your lungs into bloody dish sponges, every time you cough you risk infecting anyone around you." She let him go, flexing her fingers, and backed away. "After the second great war ended, I had every intention of drinking myself to death until Jiraiya rammed some sense into my skull, so it isn't as though I don't understand how you feel. You want out of this shit-sack world, fine, but you'd better not drag anyone else into hell with you."

-ooo-

A meeting was called over next morning's meager breakfast. Naruto refused to speak to Itachi as he sat down around the table Yagura grew for them, and Kakashi didn't seem inclined to, either. The cabin had thin walls, and the shinobi from Kiri had almost certainly heard what had occurred last night, but said nothing of it.

When they had all settled, Yagura addressed Itachi first. "Both your comrades and Akatsuki now have a common enemy in Shimura Danzō and those shinobi in Konoha who are loyal to him. It is Pain-sama's belief that he conspired with Orochimaru–who has also betrayed us both–to spark a fourth great war. He intends to conquer all the free shinobi countries, starting with Wind. Our leader has just received word that Konoha is preparing a 'peacekeeping force' to quell the unrest following their succession dispute as we speak.

"Akatsuki's goal was and has always been peace between the nations," he continued. "Danzō _must_ be stopped, or hundreds of thousands of people may die. With Orochimaru gone and Sasori's sleeper agent dead in the coup, our connections to Konoha have been severed. His information network stops at the borders of the village, now."

"Sasori is alive?" Itachi interrupted, with terrifying sharpness.

"You fought him," Yagura said. "You've seen what he's done to himself. He is _incredibly_ difficult to kill." He sipped at his tea, undaunted by Itachi's tone. "Like you, Pain-sama has personal reasons for wanting Danzō dead–he was the one that ambushed the original Akatsuki under Yahiko during the planned Konoha-Suna-Iwa peace talks. Our need has never been more dire, and the group is severely undermanned." He looked away, relinquishing some of his cool pride. "We are asking—_begging_—for your help."

"We'll never be able to depose Danzō without funding and manpower," Jiraiya pointed out. "If they're telling the truth, Akatsuki would be able to give us both of those things."

Itachi had been watching Yagura under the scrutiny of his sharingan as the man spoke. If he was lying, he was deft indeed. "When we encountered Terumï Mei, she had been tapped to facilitate a drug trafficking operation, which I do not find an appealing prospect. Where are these funds coming from? Who else makes up this organization?"

"As distasteful as it is, revolutions need money, and the only way to secure enough of it is often through unsavory means," Yagura said, shrugging. "The other core members are, like you, powerful shinobi who have been forced to flee their villages as political exiles. There are currently six, marked with these." He raised his left hand to display a plain silver ring set with a round of light blue glass. Beneath it was etched the character for 'North'.

"And what is your leader's interest in the bijū?" Itachi asked Yagura. "I know Madara was after them, and I cannot imagine any goal he had would be of benefit to us."

"That is a question Pain-sama ought to answer in detail, but I can assure you I follow him because I want to," Yagura said, and set his teacup aside. "If you consider yourself Naruto's brother, you must know how poorly jinchūriki have been historically treated– feared, shunned, imprisoned, subjected to assassination attempts and medical experiments. But Pain-sama treats us as people, not weapons. Beyond stopping the war looming now, he has another purpose that he wishes us—in partnership with our bijū—to fulfill."

"_Partnership_?" Naruto broke in. "Are you crazy? They're sneaky, nasty, baby-munching _evil_!"

Yagura didn't answer the charge, but instead closed his eyes and dipped his head. When he raised it, the chakra flowing through his slight body had changed. Itachi was on his feet immediately, the Mangekyō sharingan awakened.

"You can put those eyes of yours away, for all the good it would do you. I won't be falling for those tricks again," another voice rumbled sarcastically through his lips. It sounded old, and very tired, like the creaking branches of an ancient forest. "I am the Sanbi. You may also address me as Isobu-sama, if you wish. Yagura was the first human in a great while to do so."

"You're not sealed," Kakashi breathed. The amount of stress it took to induce pure, unadulterated panic in Hatake Kakashi was immense. Realizing there was an unrestrained bijū sitting next to him screamed past that threshold. The only thing that kept him from bolting was Haku's bemused smile.

"No," Isobu said. "I was once, when Yagura was a boy, but now I am a guest–not a prisoner. Mostly I sleep, but he awakened me to assure you we mean no trickery, and to tell you our story. It is still difficult for him to speak of his imprisonment. The memories cause him great pain." He raised Yagura's left hand, stiffly, concentrating on manipulating the unfamiliar limb. "Please, sit, Itachi-kun. If I had any intention of harming you, I would have done so already."

"I was there the night the Kyūbi attacked Konoha," Kakashi said, his voice low. "It wanted to kill us all. You could almost taste it in the air."

"I, for one, would not blame him," Isobu said. "If you were enslaved and imprisoned for a hundred years, with barely any hope for freedom, would you simply wish your captors good bye and good luck? Or would you take vengeance as repayment for your suffering?"

"My grandfather captured and sealed you because people were _dying_," Tsunade reminded him acidly. "Anyone caught inside a bijū's territory would have been better off getting struck by a tsunami."

"You are not wrong," Isobu admitted. "The sensation of regret is still a rather strange one to me, but Yagura tells me that it is something that plagues those who have taken lives they later wished they had not. I would also like you to think, if you will, on the number of lives the Shodai Hokage himself took, with his human hands. How many Madara took. How many that you sitting _here_ have taken. It must number in the hundreds. Viewed through that lens, the evils you humans have done to each other are a thousand times more cruel than what we bijū have inflicted upon you." A low thrumming noise reverberated through the cabin, and they eventually recognized it as laughter. "And you call us the demons."

"What changed, then?" Naruto asked in a small voice.

"Yagura was imprisoned within his own mind for years," Isobu said. "Madara ruled Kirigakure through him. Enemies we might have been, but we were both victims of Uchiha Madara, and we had no one but each other for company. He came to have sympathy for my plight, and I for his."

"If you have no seal... why not leave?" Naruto asked.

"To do so would kill him," he said. "The life of a bijū is a lonely one. Before Yagura, many of my vessels spoke to me, but he… was the first to ever truly listen. I found myself growing fond of him. And as strange as it may sound, this fragile body is my shield. Were I not cloaked in it, I would be forever hunted, allowed no rest. He is my protector as I am his."

The pressure in the air relaxed, and Yagura's breathy, boyish voice returned to his lips. "Now do you understand? If you're like I was, every day you lived in fear your bijū would break free. I can't guarantee it–he has his own free will and this cannot be forced–but if you come with me, I will do my best to help you make your peace with the Kyūbi." He raised his head to address the others. "If and when you accept one of these rings, the loyalty expected of you is absolute, but until you make that choice you will be free to leave Amegakure as you please."

All the eyes turned to Itachi. "Agreed. We leave as soon as the wounded are prepared for travel."

-ooo-

Yagura secured all of them better rain cloaks at the first village they passed, a bustling crossroads settlement. Storm Country bore little evidence of the wars that had torn across its plains, the scars the land bore concealed beneath the roots of slender broad-leafed trees and verdant plots of vegetables. The main roads were well-kempt, surfaced in cement or brick instead of packed dirt. Despite the constant drizzle, traffic was steady, on foot and also on bicycles that were piled precariously high with goods destined for market. The farmers invariably yielded the right of way to the pattern of red clouds, out of respect rather than fear, a reassuring sign. The closer they came to the capital, the more and more wires were threaded along the roadside like the strands of a giant spider web. Farms gave way to factories, village to towns.

After a day of travel, the country dipped into a gently curving bowl. In the center of the valley was Amegakure. Despite the naming convention, the Hidden Village would be more properly called a _city_. It had the tallest buildings the group from Konoha had ever seen, the antennae that sprouted from every building scraping the ever-present clouds. Even stranger, it had no defensive wall. It was instead encircled by a broad, sluggish river, which split in two around the city and rejoined at its southern edge to flow onward towards River Country and then to the sea. The water was traversed by two bascule bridges that could be raised or lowered whenever needed. Yagura led them to the nearest, and they joined the movement of traffic on the wide steel road. Like they had on the country lanes, the citizens kept a respectful distance.

As they reached the checkpoint on the opposite bank, the sun cracked through the cloud cover, splattering the sidewalks with a patchwork of light and shadow. On the rays of light came a cloud of white butterflies, each the size of a man's palm. The gate guards dropped what they were doing to stare, and some of the pedestrians waved. Two words flowed from mouth to mouth, jostling in the air: '_The Angel'._

Unlike true butterflies these were not silent in their flight, whispering like the pages of a book as they clumped together into a winged human form. Color spread across it like spilled ink—black, red, cream, and pale violet.

The paper woman smiled regally, her eyes lingering on all of them... but especially long on Jiraiya. "I am Konan, the messenger of the high tower," she said. "Welcome to Amegakure. Jiraiya-san, please follow me. Pain-sama wishes to greet you personally. " She inclined her head to the others. "My men will show our other guests to their accommodations. Please rest and replenish yourselves; you will be summoned before Pain-sama tomorrow evening."

She exploded into a cloud of butterflies, some lingering with the people clustered around the gate. Without hands to guide them, the sheets of origami paper refolded themselves into the likeness of an angel, and fluttered to rest in the palms of the people watching below.

"Jiraiya—that couldn't have been the girl we met in...?" Tsunade asked in shock.

"I was sure they were all dead," he answered, smiling a lopsided smile and never in his life so pleased to be proven wrong. "I take back everything I said. I think I know who's leading Akatsuki... and we don't have anything to worry about." One of the butterflies came to rest on his shoulder and took off again, hovering expectantly about half a meter before his nose. He said a brief goodbye to the others and followed it.

A handful of ANBU agents appeared as the clouds sealed over the rays of sunlight, clearing a small space in the crowd like a stone parting a stream. All of them wore waterproof, hooded black cloaks trimmed in red piping, and the decorations on their porcelain masks were geometric rather than zoological. "Yagura-san. We can take your prisoner."

"Wait," he said, acknowledging Naruto's pleading look. "I retract the recommendation to have Pain-sama conduct the extraction. The boy has his own reasons to withdraw his loyalty to Konoha's current regime, and Naruto-kun thought it likely he would share the intelligence freely once the seal on his tongue is disabled. He was badly injured and needs additional medical attention, as does she," he gestured at Sakura, who was draped over Itachi's back. His face was almost as pallid as hers, but he had repeatedly refused offers to share in the burden of carrying her.

"I'm supervising their care," Tsunade volunteered. Her hands were occupied supporting the semiconscious Sai, and she blew a lock of her bangs out of her face to look at the ANBU agent. "And frankly I'm not sure I trust the quacks you probably have working at your hospital."

Yagura sighed, his naturally diplomatic disposition rubbed raw after a day of travel with Tsunade, but nevertheless intervened on her patients' behalf. "ANBU-san, please see that the medics provide her with whatever materials and nursing staff she requires. Her patients are comrades of the Kyūbi jinchūriki, and their recovery is of utmost importance to him."

"Understood. This way, please, Tsunade-san," their leader said.

"If you try sneaking out after you drop her off, I'm breaking your legs," Tsunade warned Itachi as they set off towards the hospital. "You look like you're about to keel over yourself."

Haku borrowed a pen and a scrap of paper from the customs desk and scribbled something down on it, which he handed to Naruto. "Here's our telephone number. Call if you need anything." He and Kimimaro bid Naruto a polite goodbye before disappearing into the network of tunnels and bridges with Yagura, leaving only Kakashi, Shizune, and Naruto himself on the road that bordered the lapping water.

Naruto stared at the string of numbers, and then, choosing one of their masked guides at random, asked, "What's a telephone?"

"There will be one in your suite; the hotel staff can explain how to use it. Follow me."

Naruto stuffed the paper in a pocket and trailed after the man, trying to tease out some threads of conversation from the businesslike reserve.

"You're not going with Tsunade?" Kakashi asked Shizune, mildly surprised. "Thought she might have needed a babysitter more than Naruto does."

Shizune laughed as they wound their way through the crowd of umbrellas and answered after ducking beneath a row of shop awnings, Tonton and Pakkun trotting behind. "If she's taken responsibility for a patient, she'll stay out of the bars–you can trust her on that." She tucked a lock of damp hair behind her ear, waiting for Tonton to catch up. She minced her way around the puddles, squeaking in indignation. "Tonton, you're a _pig… _how could you be so fussy about mud?" Shizune muttered to herself, scooped her up, and continued walking. "Itachi-san has been through a lot, I know, so I couldn't say whether or not he's going to be all right, but from the chin down I promise she'll take excellent care of him." They walked for a little longer, trying to ignore the looks of suspicion or outright hatred the populace cast at Kakashi's hitai-ate, and her expression became curiously tender. "It's strange. When we were kids you really had your head stuck up your…" She cleared her throat, reddening.

"I won't be offended if you finish the sentence. It was true."

"Anyway… besides Minato-sensei, Gai was the only one you ever spent any time with, and that was only because he was equal parts persistent and oblivious to basic social cues. From what I could gather, you didn't even like him. You didn't like _anyone_." She tilted her head to peer down the street at Naruto, who, within the span of five minutes, had coaxed the leader of the ANBU team into being his personal tour guide. "It's… " she cast about for a suitable word, the faint blush coming stronger into her cheeks, "nice to see how much you've changed."

-ooo-

The architecture of Ame was a vertical chaos wreathed in brilliant neon. Surrounded by water, its inhabitants had nowhere to build but up. Rust and rot were everywhere, given the climate, but despite the dingy appearance of the structures that towered over Jiraiya, the streets were surprisingly clean.

Jiraiya followed his fluttering guide to the tallest of the towers, a matte black structure topped with a fearsome, growling face. The doors creaked open ponderously, and he stepped into a vaulted atrium lit by warm electric lights. The doorman bowed to him, relieved him of his rain gear, and indicated he should proceed through the hallway to his left. Konan was waiting for him by the row of elevators faced in glass. The butterfly landed on her hand as she extended it, unfolded into a square of paper, and disappeared into her wide sleeves.

"Is that really you, Konan?" he asked. "No clones, no tricks?"

She nodded, with subdued warmth. "This way, please." She stepped into the open elevator car and pressed a sequence of numbers on the keypad above the two columns of buttons for selecting the floors. The doors slid smoothly shut and the elevator ascended. Jiraiya looked out over the city as the raindrops beat against the exterior surface of the skyscraper. Compared to Konoha, it was dreary and gray, but that pallor didn't seem to extend to the hearts of its people. Life couldn't be so bad when there was an angel looking out for you.

"You've come a long way from folding cranes and flowers… inventing your own style of ninjutsu is an incredible achievement." He saw the ghostly reflection in the glass smile faintly. "I thought you were dead. You could have sent a message."

Konan worried at the silver post through her labrum, a nervous habit that made her seem much younger than she truly was. "I wanted to. Pain-sama didn't think it was wise for Konoha to think we were still alive. He was right."

"But who is–"

"You'll see," she said, and went silent as the car rose higher. The elevator ground to a stop at the highest floor. Konan turned left and led him through the halls, lit by buzzing fluorescent bulbs. Although the penthouse suite was richly appointed, there was an unmistakable hospital scent in the air. She stopped before a pair of ornate double doors. "I really did miss you, Sensei."

"Come in," a voice said. It was very deep, but somewhat ragged, as if the speaker was troubled by a cough.

Konan pulled the door open and gestured for Jiraiya to enter. From the table at the center of the room she lifted a pitcher and poured some water for the man lying in the bed, pushing the curtains aside after he accepted it. Nodding briefly to Jiraiya, she let herself out and shut the door behind her.

He came forward, to better see the figure in the shadows. Same red hair, same unmistakable silver eyes, but that was all. He was only in his late thirties but his face was as gaunt as a ninety-year-old man's, and above the fold of his robe Jiraiya could see the outline of every rib. He sank down into the chair by the head of the bed. "Nagato... what happened to you? I'll have Tsunade take a look at you, I'm sure she could—"

"She can't heal this," he answered, with such complete certainty Jiraiya didn't press the point. "You must have questions for me. Ask what you like."

There were so many Jiraiya didn't know where to begin. He'd left the trio when they were only children. One look at Nagato's face told him that they hadn't been children for a very, very long time. "I heard what I was sure was Yahiko's voice… Yagura was speaking with him. Where is he? I was told you attacked Hanzō at your treaty signing, that you all died."

"The boy you knew as Yahiko did die, that day. He threw himself on my knife to save Konan. It was an act for which I have yet to forgive him."

Jiraiya drew back in disgust. "You used a reanimation jutsu? Those are forbidden for a reason! What Orochimaru did was a perversion of—"

"Don't look at me like that, Sensei," Nagato said. "His soul still resides in the Pure World, as do the other bodies I've taken to assist me in directing this organization. It would be impossible without them." He reached forward and flipped the blankets off his lower legs. His knee and ankle joints had been frozen by masses of scar tissue, the aftermath of a hideous burn. "Even if I could draw in enough chakra to restore my strength, I can still barely walk. The current vessels of my Six Paths were shinobi who served Amegakure wholeheartedly in life and continue to do so in death. You can think of me as a puppeteer if that is less offensive to you.

"They are preserved and controlled by implants of chakra-conducting metal, traces of which remain in my body even when the technique is not active. The contamination continuously saps my chakra. If I weren't an Uzumaki I'd have died years ago."

"You were the one that closed the borders," Jiraiya said, with a hint of accusation. "Was it because you have something to hide? What did Uchiha Madara have to do with all of this?"

Nagato let his eyes fall onto the blankets under the pressure of his mentor's disproval. "Madara contacted me years ago, after I had manifested the Rinnegan but well before Yahiko's death. He took advantage of that loss. There are only two kinds of men who believe in absolutes when it comes to the human condition–the naive and the mad. Yahiko was in the first category. After he died, I… fell into the second. Madara turned my arrogance against me. He nurtured my delusions and used them to control me, and I never suspected… for no one may be above a god. It was only after his death that I realized how thoroughly he'd manipulated me to fulfill his own aims… how much he had led me away from what _you_ taught me.

"I have a confession to make to you," he said. "I took my revenge on Hanzō for his betrayal. I killed him, his wife, his daughters, his students, his teachers, his comrades, his servants. Everyone he had ever loved, ever looked to for assistance or guidance… I took them all." He started to cough, the words having stolen the moisture from his throat. Horrified into speechlessness, Jiraiya let him continue without interruption once he'd recovered.

"It may be that I'm the reincarnation of the Rikudō Sennin, but I'm not a god. To be truthful, I have my suspicions that he was no more a divine being than I am. For all his power, he was only a man. If he was omniscient, how could he have allowed his eldest son–a boy he must have cherished–to fall as low as he did? He couldn't foresee every consequence. He was bound in flesh. Even he, in all his power and wisdom, could not keep it from failing him in the end. And he made his mistakes, just as I have.

"Konan never contradicted me or offered resistance to the path I'd chosen for Akatsuki after Yahiko was killed. Looking back, I can't imagine she thought I was justified in murder. She was born with a generous soul and it endures to this day. But she didn't stop me… she was _frightened _of me. How could she not be? She more than anyone else knows exactly what I am capable of. Even now, I'm not sure she's stood by me all this time out of friendship or out of fear."

"This is a lot to take in," Jiraiya said. He bent to rest his elbows against his thighs and worried at his interlaced fingers. "If you want me to tell you're forgiven, I can't. You did something unspeakable. It was everything I warned you against!"

"I knew you would be disappointed in me. Forgiveness is something that must be earned, and I understand that. But I still need your help not making the same mistakes again. More than anything else… I need someone brave enough to tell me when I'm wrong." He coughed again, exhausted by the conversation, and drained the glass of water. "Can you do that for me, Sensei?"

Jiraiya relieved him of the empty cup and placed it back on the table, so he could lie back. "I can try, but out of all the great shinobi of our time, you picked a perverted failure like me for this job? World's probably doomed."

"I trust you. Even with all of your faults, you are the only one who has never led me wrong." He settled his head against the pillows. "You told me once about a prophecy you would train a child who would either save or destroy the shinobi world."

Jiriaya winced. "That was a... look. I only halfway believe it myself. The Great Toad Elder is senile. Sometimes he doesn't even remember who he is."

"Whether one believes in soothsaying or not, I intend to make his prophecy a reality. I _do_ aim to destroy the world of shinobi…." Jiraiya bristled, "…And build it into something else," Nagato finished.

"What do you mean?" Jiraiya asked, straightening as he leaned against the tabletop.

"It was thanks indirectly to Naruto that I finally grasped the answer. There is a faction among the monks of the Fire Temples that believe the teachings of the Rikudō Sennin have been thoroughly corrupted. One of them found his way here last year, after the fortuitous confrontation between his bodyguards, led by one Uchiha Itachi, and one of my teams, led by Terumï Mei. Naruto can introduce you; I'm certain you'd like him.

"He and his brothers believe there is no reason ninjutsu must be used as weapon of war, but that is what is being done to the exclusion of nearly everything else. The only ones who learn to mold chakra are trained as soldiers. Some of them are soldiers with kind hearts." He stopped, looking to his teacher. "But they are soldiers nonetheless.

"The system of hidden villages feeds on war. It needs conflict to survive as surely as a man needs water to live. My intention is to put an end to the world of shinobi as we know it. I do not want the art of molding chakra to be considered a weapon before a tool. With proper training and dedication almost anyone could learn—you yourself proved that with Yahiko and Konan. It could be used to build homes, to lay roads, to protect crops. To heal, instead of to harm. It is my belief that _this_ is what the Rikudō Sennin truly intended for the power he gifted to the world.

"Shinobi have their pride. I'm not so sure…" Jiraiya began.

"There are more ready to renounce it than you might think, in Ame and elsewhere. I believe your Senju Hashirama himself was deeply influenced by these teachings. He used the mokuton to build Konoha and its forests out of a wasteland, did he not?"

"He did," Jiraiya said, trying to pull half-remembered tales our of his distant childhood. "The moment the peace was made, I heard he put down his weapons and raised the first of the clan compounds. He restored the soil, dug wells, sprouted orchards..."

"He understood," Nagato agreed with satisfaction. "Depravation makes people desperate. Violent." His throat spasmed for a moment. "But if _all_ had enough to eat, _all_ had a strong roof over their heads, _all _could be given healing when it was needed… what would be their reason to subject themselves to the horrors of war?"

"There will always be people who want more than they have," Jiraiya cautioned. "As noble as it sounds, this isn't a permanent end to all this violence."

"No," Nagato said. "I don't mean to end it. This world is imperfect. Human beings are imperfect." He smiled wryly. "To claim otherwise is a mark of insanity. But if we can go ten, twenty, a hundred years without conflict, I think it would be a very good place to start."

As Jiraiya turned to leave, something caught his eye from the bookshelves on the wall. He pulled out a hardback with an olive cover and turned it over in his hands. The book had seen much love; the front cover was halfway split from the spine and the ink filling in the embossed title was mostly worn away. "This has been out of print for almost ten years. How did you...?"

"With my resources, it wasn't that difficult to track down one old book that no one wanted to buy."

"Can I borrow this?" Jiraiya asked. "My copy is still back in Konoha, and... I think I might be able to convert one more fan."

"If you mean Naruto, leave it on the table. I'll give it to him myself."


	28. Chapter 28

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

**Beta Credits**: HakorTheEgyptianPharoah

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 28 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Alone was the last thing Naruto would have wanted to be, but after Kakashi and Shizune had wandered back to the first floor of their hotel for a drink and then not returned, alone was where he found himself. He was too proud to slink downstairs to beg for company, no matter how homesick and lonely he felt, so he flipped on the television and curled up in the impeccably-made bed to waste the rest of the evening in indolence.<p>

Just as he had laid down on the quilt there was a sharp knock on the door. Standing on his toes, he peered through the peep hole. Visible through the fish-eye glass was a rather short, rather round Ame chūnin bouncing a paper bag against her knees. Warily, he opened the door a crack for her.

"Iko Momoka, pleased to meet you, Naruto-sama," she said, folding so low the parcel almost brushed the floor. "Pain-sama has requested a personal meeting with you this evening. Please change and follow me." She raised the bag. "These should fit, I hope?"

"Naruto-_sama_? I don't think anyone has called me that in my life. It's weird. Please don't," he said, accepting her gift and pulling the door open a bit wider. "And he wants to what? With me? Can I tell Kakashi-sensei where I'm going? I'm not sure he's going to like this."

"Yes, of course," she answered, and giggled, which dimpled her cheeks. "I'm just one of the tower aides; I'm not trying to abduct you. Jiraiya-sama has already explained the situation to your guardians, but you're welcome to speak with them yourself."

He retreated into the bathroom with her package and emerged in his new clothes. He didn't really care for the drab grays, but the new outfit was reasonably comfortable, and neither the borrowed rags nor his own rumpled jacket would have made him feel more at ease meeting a man who commanded the loyalty of shinobi as powerful as the ones he'd met so far. She pronounced the fit perfect and tugged him, politely yet firmly, into the waiting elevator.

The pair at the hotel bar had been enjoying several more than a singular drink. Shizune's cheeks were flushed with several cups of sake and she was laughing softly at something Kakashi had just said. He assured Naruto the woman was telling the truth, told him not to worry, and turned back to whatever anecdote he'd been relating to Shizune. He spared one last glance at Kakashi as Momoka shooed him out the doors. It was hard to tell, under the mask, but he looked like he was smiling. That was something Kakashi hadn't done very often lately.

Naruto's suspicions, if not his nervousness, allayed, he followed his guide through the lashing rain to their destination. The coat and umbrella she'd lent him were surrendered to a doorman, and they rode the dizzying glass elevator to the penthouse. She bid him a cheerful goodbye and left him in the care of the ANBU bodyguard waiting at the top floor. This woman was as dour as his first guide had been vivacious, and she did not introduce herself. Naruto gulped and shuffled across the luxurious carpet in her wake, dripping silently. The guard stopped at a pair of doors, bowed, and turned smartly on her heels to return the way she'd come.

"You wanted to see me, um, Pain-sama?" he asked, letting his voice drift through the crack between the doors. He peeked his nose inside and caught himself staring at the emaciated husk of a man lying in the bed. His eyes were so piercing and alien Naruto immediately found a dresser knob to focus his gaze as he closed the door behind him. "Talking to Haku and Yagura, I was expecting someone…"

"With the strength to get up out of his bed?" he asked. "Then I am afraid meeting me must be something of a disappointment to you."

"No… that's not what I… I just thought… um," Naruto finished, mortified.

"The man you heard Yagura speaking to is a vessel into which I can project my consciousness. I trust you understand why that is necessary."

"Your eyes are so strange… what's wrong with you?" Naruto asked, and slapped his hand to his lips as soon as the question had spurted out. "I'm sorry, that was really rude, wasn't it?"

Looking amused rather than insulted, he answered, "It's called the Rinnegan. It is a dōjutsu of immense power, but using it to its full extent comes at a price. And my illness cannot be cured by medicine or surgery. The only way to restore my strength would be to draw it out of someone else, and very few beings possess enough chakra. The Rokubi, Saiken, nearly did, but to take enough to heal me completely could have killed Utakata. I suspect Fū might–she holds the Nanabi, and you will meet her soon enough–but her training with Yagura has only just begun, and her seal is so fragile I would not dare attempt it."

"You mean I could learn to talk with my bijū like he does? You really _are_ trying to help us, aren't you?" Naruto whispered.

"Teaching you to find peace with the demon you hold inside you serves a greater purpose. If you choose to swear your loyalty to me and my cause, I will tell you in more detail what that is, but it is not a decision I expect you to make tonight."

"You really, really didn't mean for all of that to happen in Sunagakure? The stadium collapsing, Sasuke being taken, my mom and dad…?"

"Orochimaru acted on his own and against my orders. I thought I could control him. I should have been more wary of his promises, and you have my deepest apologies for the damage he has done. Sasori has also been… disciplined for his part in this, but his knowledge of Wind Country and his spy network are too valuable to the organization to relinquish." He folded his hands together and dropped his eyes to the blankets. "If you hate me, I would understand why. The loss of one's parents is a difficult thing to forgive, and Amegakure bears ultimate responsibility for it."

He went quiet, waiting with keen interest for Naruto's answer.

Naruto had been benumbed these last few weeks, and now, finally safe, feeling was returning to his heart. A glob of anger fell into his belly, but he let it dissipate without acting upon the pain. Part of him _did_ hate the Akatsuki. Part of him wanted to attack any target that presented itself within his sight, just like he'd gone wild against Jiraiya the night of the coup. But he knew how much vengeance would cost, in the end, as sweet as it might be in the moment that he took it. The Uchiha would never forget that lesson. What he was being offered–a way to eliminate the threat the Kyūbi posed to his comrades, not simply mitigate it–was priceless, and could not be refused.

"I don't hate you," Naruto said. "And hurting Akatsuki wouldn't gain me anything… I'd be hurting Haku and his friends, too, and I've already done him enough harm. When I was growing up, I was always taught it was the shinobi of Konoha who were my comrades, who would be the ones I could always depend on to protect me. Everyone outside my village was the enemy, not to be trusted." He sniffed. "What a big fat load of bullcrap that was. If Akatsuki can help me stop the Kyūbi from hurting anyone else, you can borrow my chakra in return. That seems fair. That's why you asked me here, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't," Nagato answered. He brushed his hand over the valleys above his collarbones. "But I have been sick for a very long time, and if you are freely offering this to me, I don't think I have the will to turn you down."

"What would I have to do?" Naruto asked. "Does it hurt?"

"Nothing but hold out your hands. I wouldn't expect so."

Naruto hesitated as he brushed Nagato's skin and couldn't stop himself from shuddering. The man's fingers had little warmth or strength; it was like grasping the hands of a corpse. Nagato close his eyes and initiated the technique. The discomfort was intense but wavered on the threshold of being actual pain, a feeling of suction stressing the chakra pathways of his arms and up into his heart. Swarms of dots surged around the periphery of his vision, and just as Nagato let go Naruto toppled and nearly struck his head on the chair beside the bed.

"Are you all right?" Nagato asked, startled.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm good, the room is just... a little… spinny," Naruto murmured, his cheek pressed into the carpet pile. "Give me a second." He massaged his fingers against his eyes and the black ants invading the corners of the room retreated. He turned on his back, resting his hand against his forehead.

The face that was peering down at his own was almost unrecognizable. The harsh years had melted from Nagato's frame. He threw off the blankets, and, with some difficulty, swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "I think I would like to go for a walk. Would you join me?" He gripped the headboard with one hand and extended the other to steady Naruto as he sat up.

"Oh, no, you don't have to help–"

"Believe me, having someone else need my support is a refreshing change. The scar tissue in my legs makes it difficult for me to keep my balance, but otherwise I feel well enough. Excellent, in fact. Your chakra capacity is extraordinary."

He smiled at the compliment and let Nagato pull him up; all the muscle mass appropriate to a healthy man had been restored, and he had no difficulty lifting Naruto from the floor. He leaned back on the rumpled blankets as the last of the vertigo subsided. Nagato depressed a button on an intercom box mounted to the wall. "Have a sweet tray and some tea sent up for my visitor, please." He then made his way carefully to a walk-in closet in the corner of the room, steadying himself on the furniture. There was a lot of rustling and finally a sigh of slight annoyance.

"'Hmm, what?" Naruto asked, kicking at the box spring with his heels.

"I can't seem to find any shoes," came the muffled reply. "How do I not own shoes?"

"This whole big tower is like your house, isn't it?" Naruto pointed out. "You can walk around barefoot if you want to."

The rustling resumed for a few minutes, until Konan came in and laid a tray on the central table. She lifted the teapot to pour out two cups' worth and froze when Nagato pushed open the closet door, leaning against a cane. He was now dressed in a matching black shirt and pants, held closed by a thin green cord tied at his hips.

The earthenware pot slipped out of her hands and smashed on the floor. She barely even noticed the scalding tea that splashed on her toes, or when the pottery shards whisked themselves into the waste basket with a wave of her partner's hand. Naruto pushed himself off the bed, weaving a little, and attacked the tray of pastries. Although he'd just eaten a few hours ago, he was suddenly famished.

Konan's mouth agape, her gaze swept over Nagato's full cheeks. "Where are you going?!" she exclaimed.

"For a walk."

"For a walk," Konan repeated, dumbfounded. "But how did… your face is… that's not _possible _without killing the…"

"Unless he's the Kyūbi jinchūriki, it seems. It was a lovely coincidence."

She looked down at Naruto, who was straining mightily to chew everything he had just crammed into his mouth. "Why don't I… get you some more of those," she murmured, still struggling to reorient herself.

"Ank ou, Onan-than," he said around the mouthful. A stray crumb of fondant fell onto the table. "Orry."

Nagato started to chuckle at Naruto's predicament, quietly subdued but with genuine mirth. As Konan reached the door, she stopped with her hand on the knob.

"What?" Nagato asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I just can't remember the last time I heard you laugh."

Slightly revitalized by the sugar, Naruto let the older man lead him to another set of doors, the glass panes etched with stylized, geometric flowers. The richness of wet earth and jasmine blossoms almost bowled Naruto over when they opened. The garden was tiny, filling only one of the metal tower's many terraces. Orchids spilled out of perforations in the wall, and the jasmine had all but consumed the arbor. The building was the tallest in the city, and a low rail provided a view over its entirety without exposing them the citizens' gaze. Unable to contain his curiosity, Naruto brushed his finger over the violet tongue that protruded from between two of a flower's white petals. A cabochon of rain slid off the velvet surface to strike the marble below. Naruto folded his arms over the wall, giving it most of his weight. "This place is beautiful. I've never seen flowers like these before."

Laying his cane against the wall, Nagato brought his hands together and then spread them wide, and the clouds peeled back. The last of the sunlight, although gentle on his face, made Naruto squirm. "I kept seeing signs about 'Rain Schedule' in the shop windows. I guess that answers that question." He swallowed, his nerves jangling again. The power to command the sky was frightening indeed. "Why would you bring me here–some kid you've never met before? Yagura said he'd never seen your face, and he's been here for years, hasn't he? He didn't even know your real name."

"Before I tell you what that is, I have a question for you. My sources in Konoha told me you were not born an Uchiha?"

"No…" he answered, reticent and puzzled. "I was adopted. My birth mother's name was Uzumaki. Uzumaki Kushina. It's funny…" he babbled, fiddling with a length of vine. "I don't have many pictures of her, but her hair is exactly the same color as…" _Exactly_ the same color, he realized as his voice died away. With the fullness restored to his face, it wasn't the only thing he could now see Nagato and his mother had in common. The realization stole his breath, and the meager strength left in his legs. If he hadn't been leaning against the guard wall he would have fallen. "I... I have a clan?" Naruto hiccupped. "I have a _f-family_?"

"Yes. You do. I asked because that is also my name. Uzumaki Nagato."

There had been no tears since Naruto awoke in the burn unit in Sunagakure's hospital–not when he'd learned what happened to Sasuke, not at his stepfather's funeral, not when he'd held his mother's cooling hand for the last time, not when he learned Itachi intended to abandon him for sickness and death. Every drop he had been holding inside was threatening to burst free all at once. Humiliated to be losing his composure in front of a stranger, he squeezed his eyelids shut so tightly it made his brows ache.

Nagato cocked his head, considering the trembling child beside him. "I know what you've lost–as have I. There is a time and place for tears. You shouldn't be ashamed."

With those words, Naruto surrendered to the flood and let it carry him where it would. When he finished, when every drop had been squeezed out onto the leaves, he wiped his nose on his sleeve and said, "S-sorry I got snot on the shirt you gave me. I'm not usually s-such a crybaby."

"It's all right." Nagato leaned closer to whisper in Naruto's ear. "You couldn't possibly have been worse than I was."

"_You_?"

"Yes."

"_Really_?"

"Oh, yes. It drove Yahiko insane. He was the orphan who took me in, fed me and shielded me after my parents were killed by Konoha shinobi searching for food during the war." He looked wistful for a moment. "It hurts to lose the people we thought would protect us. But those who truly love us do their best to ensure we're strong enough to protect ourselves when they're gone."

"They did. So did my birth parents." Naruto traced a spiral in the moisture of the wall with the tip of his finger. "Have you ever seen it? Uzushiogakure? No, that's stupid, you don't look much more than twenty-five, so–"

"I'm almost forty," he corrected. "We Uzumaki take a long time to show our age. I was born on those islands, but no, I don't remember anything of them. My mother fled with me when I was very young. She found her way here, to Storm Country, and married a farmer. She wasn't a shinobi and hardly ever spoke of her old life, or the husband she'd had to leave behind. I am sadly ignorant of the clan and their traditions.

"My eyes give me access to all the elemental natures, even a small measure of power over life and death, but of their sealing techniques I know nothing. To my knowledge, we are the last of the Uzumaki left. Most died when Uzushio fell. A few may have gained asylum with other villages, if they could renounce their loyalties to their homeland, but I have no way to find them. The Uzumaki fuinjutsu is lost to time."

"No, it isn't," Naruto said, letting a smile come to his face just as the sun had broken through the clouds. "I met Uzumaki Mito, after Orochimaru summoned her back from the dead. She showed me something, and I want to show you. I don't know if this is gonna work, but the worst that'll happen is that you'll have to go wash your hand." He bit down on his first finger, wincing, and used the blood to draw the crimson whirlpool on Nagato's right palm. Carefully, he worked his way through the signs Mito had shown him, pleased that he'd remembered. Just like it had upon his own hand, the spiral of blood glowed bright for a second, and disappeared. "It's a key," Naruto explained, "to the secret libraries in Uzushiogakure. Don't know if there's still a lock, though. She said they were still standing when she died, but that was…" he counted it up, "probably thirty-five years ago. Well, anyway, even if they're not, my mom taught Jiraiya-sensei some. Maybe he'd be able to teach me. I don't want our clan's ways to die."

"Jiraiya-_sensei_? He didn't mention that," Nagato said, pleased. "That means we are also brother disciples, in addition to being kin. Jiraiya stayed in Storm Country for two years to teach me ninjutsu when I was a little younger than you are now."

There was a delicate rapping on the door. The same bodyguard that had led Naruto inside appeared at the threshold. "The refreshments are ready for your guest, sir."

They followed her back down the hall, where a new tea set had appeared, although Konan was nowhere to be seen. Still starving from the chakra drain, Naruto polished off the whole plate of cakes.

"Ah... I almost forgot. I have a gift for you," Nagato said. He retrieved a rectangular package wrapped in paper and placed it on the table.

Naruto licked his fingers clean and picked it up, looking dubious, but tearing the wrapping off anyways. Reading was an activity he undertook only under duress. He blinked at the author's name. "Jiraiya-sensei wrote this?" he asked. "No offense, if you like 'em or anything, but his books are pretty boring. I stole one from the bookshop once just because they were in the adults-only section, and it was like twenty pages of kissing and something about a 'quivering cleft'. Do you know what–"

"This is in a different genre," he assured Naruto hastily. "It's the first book he wrote. He thought you would like it. Read the first page before you make your judgment."

Naruto frowned down at the text, which quickly reverse direction. "Heh. The main character is named after me."

"Check the copyright date," Nagato instructed.

Naruto flipped to the inside cover, and then the title page. "Wait a…"

"Yes, Naruto-kun. It was _you _who were named after him. I would imagine your parents loved that book more than anything else they'd ever read, and I can only assume they hoped for a son just like the man alive in those pages."

"_Really?_" Naruto said, clutching to his chest. "And I can keep it?"

"You can keep it. As far as I know, it's the only copy in Amegakure. Please take care of it."

-ooo-

After several days of tense discussion, it was agreed the group from Konoha would stay in the city beneath the perpetual clouds. The simple ceremony to induct them into Akatsuki was to take place that morning, at the war council that had been called to meet the threat of Danzō's armies. A messenger came by early to Naruto's room with a request from Yagura to meet a little earlier than the general call. He hastily finished breakfast and followed the aide to the capitol building.

"Good morning," Yagura said, leaning against the wall of the first-floor lobby with his arms crossed over his chest. He unhooked them when Naruto approached.

A girl with olive skin was sitting by his ankles, smacking on a piece of gum. The sleeves of her Akatsuki coat were rolled casually up to her elbows, and the zipper was undone, displaying a rainbow of omamori good-luck charms tied to her belt.

"Before the meeting officially starts, I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is Fū. She only took her ring within the last two months, and until now was the group's youngest member. You will be training alongside her in the hopes of being able to work with, rather than against, your bijū, as I do with Isobu-sama."

"Hey," she said, guarded, pushing herself up. "I'm from Takigakure, I've got the Nanabi, and I'm a discipline problem. The bug's name is Chomei."

Sniggering, Naruto said, "You know how there's a monument to all the previous Hokages carved into the plateau above Konoha? Once I spent an entire afternoon drawing dicks on it. I think we'll get along pretty good." He stuck out his hand, which Fū eyed nervously and did not take. "I swear I washed it."

"I'm not a touchy kind of girl. Don't take it personally."

He let his hand drop. "I won't," he reassured her. "If you grew up anything like me or Gaara, I bet you had a pretty hard time of it before you came here. Messes with your head."

"All of us have, in one way or another," Yagura said. He looked up at Fū, who had a few centimeters on him in height. "A 'discipline problem' certainly is not how I would describe you, not since you agreed to leave Taki with me. If those who command you abuse you, they don't deserve your loyalty."

His gentle tone perked Fū up from her slouch. "So, Naruto… what's your thing? We were all curious."

"My thing?"

"A bijū gives special abilities to their jinchūriki," Yagura clarified for her. "You've already seen mine, the mokuton, a fitting elemental synthesis for a beast that lives on both land and water. Fū's Chomei is a seven-tailed rhinoceros beetle, and what her presence induces in her vessels is incredible strength relative to their body size, like the insect itself. Strong emotion tends to increase the muscle power they bring to bear."

"What does that mean?" Naruto asked.

"It means I broke things a lot… and occasionally people." Fū swallowed, and added with grim bitterness, "I went to hug my mom once and accidentally broke her spine. So like I said… not a touchy kind of girl."

Naruto reached for her wrist and guided her right hand into the handshake she'd initially refused. "I got stabbed straight through the belly, nearly cut in half, and had most of my skin burned off, and every time it healed in less than a day." He gripped her fingers, refusing to let her pull away. "I don't think even you could hurt me too bad."

Touched, she gingerly returned the squeeze. "So what _did_ you get from the Kyūbi, besides the whiskers?"

"I don't think I have any other ability," Naruto said. "Just a lot of chakra. More than Yagura-sempai. So when can I start?"

"You're only thirteen or so, aren't you? If you weren't aware, chakra capacity grows with age. If you already have more than me now, by the time you're twenty you will most likely have more than anyone else on this _planet_, Pain-sama included. That certainly qualifies as exceptional." He glanced at the clock tower visible from the atrium. "It's nearly ten, we should head upstairs. We can begin your training directly after the meeting, if you like. I don't have any other plans."

Fū pulled one of the ornate rectangles of brocade from her belt and handed it to Naruto. "Don't open it or the good luck will escape," she admonished. "Keep it close by and nothing will hurt you. Yagura-sempai thinks it's superstitious nonsense, but hey, it still can't hurt, can it?"

"Thanks." He tucked it in his pocket and trotted after her as they ascended the double staircase to the second floor. "So what's it like training under that guy?"

"He's one of those uptight mind-your-manners types, but he's not bad. I was in, um, kind of a bad place–like, mentally–when I left Taki, and he really helped me get settled in here. He's been here the longest and gets along best with his bijū, so he sort of put himself in charge of the rest of us freaks. Most of the time I don't mind." She grinned mischievously. "But he's not as much of a stiff as he wants everyone to think. He gets _craaazy_ worked up when you mess with him just right. Rōshi-sempai does it all the time. It's hilarious."

They followed Yagura down the hall to the meeting chamber. Most of those invited were already inside, speaking quietly with each other. Naruto froze when he recognized the redhead striding down the marble from the opposite end of the hall.

"Naruto-kun, stop it," Yagura ordered, grabbing him before he could attack the puppeteer. Sasori only sniffed in disdain and ducked inside the room. "He confessed his disloyalty and Pain-sama elected to spare him. He knows the desert like no one else in Amegakure, and with the situation this volatile and the threat to Gaara-kun so grave, we _cannot_ afford to lose any more members."

"Do you know what he did to my family?" Naruto growled.

"Yes. I do," Yagura said gently, releasing him. "I know this is difficult for you, but I hope you can put aside the past for the sake of the future. Sasori has to do the same. Konoha and Suna faced each other in the Second Great War, don't forget, and he is a great deal older than he looks. There was a heavy toll on both sides."

Grumbling, Naruto entered the room, and, seeing they were the last to arrive, he shut the doors behind him. A man who shared Nagato's rinnegan was waiting inside the entrance. His nose, lips, and ears were pierced by a dozen rings and rods, which made Naruto start. He extended his hand and dropped a silver ring into Naruto's palm. "This is the Deva Path, the body I use most often," he explained to Naruto very quietly. "They all share the Rinnegan. What they see, I see."

The floor was tiled in a circle of interlocking rings, abuzz with chakra. The other prospective members–Jiraiya, Tsunade, Itachi, and Kakashi–took the places whose characters corresponded to the rings they had just been given. Terumï Mei was there as well, and she smiled at Naruto in a brief greeting.

The Deva Path spoke, in a different voice than Naruto had heard before, but with the same intonation and rhythm. "If you chose to don the rings you have been given, you will be swearing your loyalty to me and to the vision of peace I hope to bring to the shinobi world. Akatsuki was founded on the principles of nonviolence and unity between all people, regardless of the borders that separate us. If you follow these ideals as I aspire to, and if we succeed in taking back your respective villages from those that glorify war and hatred, you will be released from your oath to me and be free to return home. If this is a promise you can make, place the ring upon any of your fingers. The only other condition on which it may be removed is your death."

All five of the new members did so, and at the conclusion of the simple ceremony the Deva Path brought his palms together to initiate a long-range communication technique. Two of the empty circles glowed green for a moment, and insubstantial projections of the two jinchūriki from Iwagakure appeared in the columns of light.

The middle-aged man with a hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his lips simply stood there blinking for several moments, as he registered the sudden upswing in membership numbers. He scratched his beard and said, "Where the hell'd you all come from?"

His partner, who was monstrously tall and covered completely in lacquer armor save for a strip across his eyes, shook his head in long-suffering annoyance. "I am Han. This is my partner Rōshi. Ignore him. I usually do. This is… unexpected, but welcome to the Akatsuki." His voice was very deep and mellifluous, although muffled by the faceplate of his helmet.

"Ignore me? God damn stuck-up tomato," Rōshi grumbled under his breath. "So _that's_ the Kyūbi jinchūriki?" he said more loudly, looking unimpressed. "Kids's a shrimp. Great. Now there's two of 'em."

Yagura bristled. "Rōshi-san, I am standing _right here_," he seethed. "And I am twenty-one, not twelve. Is it _really_ that hard to remember?!"

"It's that baby face of yours," he said airily. "Not my fault I can't keep it straight."

Chuckling, Rōshi let it go when Nagato's Deva Path addressed him with a pointed look. Rōshi removed the stub of the cigarette and ground it beneath his boot sole.

"This is indeed Naruto, and four more Konoha shinobi have joined us along with him–the remaining Sannin, Jiraiya and Tsunade, the Copy Ninja Hatake Kakashi, and Naruto's teacher and the rightful Hokage, Uchiha Itachi. Now that introductions have been made, have you two confirmed the location of any of the Rikudo Sennin's sacred tools?"

"Not yet, but we are making progress," Han answered. "They are kept in separate locations under heavy guard. Extracting them from Lightning Country will be difficult but not impossible. Bribery of his underlings may still be a possibility, but the Raikage himself will not have anything to do with our organization."

"If they aren't in arms' reach, abort the mission and return immediately; defending Amegakure is more important. I would like to move on to the primary reason I have called this gathering… the strong possibility that we have a fourth great war on our hands. Sasori, your report?"

"My plant in Konoha is dead," he announced, "so the information I have is unfortunately secondhand, but Shimura Danzō appears to be all but officially confirmed as the Godaime Hokage. The new Fire Daimyo is only nineteen and terrified of power. He is an even weaker leader than his predecessor, and Fire Country has effectively lost its civilian government.

"Danzō has recast the failed assassination attempt against Itachi as the work of Orochimaru, or more specifically my agent Yakushi Kabuto–whose loyalties are opaque, although it doesn't matter now," he added darkly. "Naruto has been 'abducted' by our organization to use as a weapon against Konoha, his surviving teammate taken as a hostage to ensure his cooperation. According to the official Konoha line, you four are all dead." He looked first at Itachi and Kakashi, and then turned to Jiraiya and Tsunade. "You two are missing in action following a confrontation with a rogue jinchūriki from Kiri."

"There were no bodies," Itachi pointed out.

"Kabuto had exquisite skill at forging corpses, a technique he learned in the Konoha medical program," Sasori said. "Taking into account the damage the fire would have caused, for another medic to present two acceptable replicas for your funeral would be a simple matter."

"His story would fall apart as soon as we make our survival known," Itachi said. "Danzō has no scruples, but he isn't a fool. He's going to twist this into something he can use to his advantage."

"He already has," Sasori said, his tone shimmering with malice. "He's begun a purge of ANBU and the other high-rank shinobi loyal to the previous Hokages, on the pretext that they have been compromised with a memory-suppression seal and are sleeper agents for Akatsuki. The same is being done in Sunagakure."

"A witch hunt," Tsunade said.

"It was a stroke of genius. I can't help but admire that kind of finesse," Sasori said. "Kabuto _did_ have a memory-suppression seal on him—mine. It was the same one I had placed on Yura, the Kazekage's councilor, in whose body they have doubtless also isolated it. The seal cannot be found except on a thorough autopsy. Ergo, the supposed sleeper agents must be dead before their loyalty can be confirmed. It provides the perfect pretense for Danzō to imprison anyone who opposes him.

"He is whipping Konoha into a paranoid froth, and fear will allow him to bring his final and most dangerous weapon onto the field. The appearance of Senju Hashirama and Uzumaki Mito was witnessed and confirmed by dozens of people from multiple villages, as was their loyalty to Akatsuki. To counter this technique, he is attempting to convince the rest of the Konoha leadership that there is only one way to fight soldiers that cannot die… summon your own."

After the gasps echoed away, Sasori continued. "Orochimaru confided in me that he was forced to flee Konoha so quickly that he never had the opportunity to destroy his notes or the works in his laboratory. They are in Danzō's hands now, and it is very likely he will be able to plunder Konoha's graveyard with the blessing of his men. No one interred there is safe. Besides the obvious durability of the resurrected shinobi, the psychological factors of their appearance are almost as powerful. If I were you, I would expect to be seeing familiar faces again." He looked piercingly at Kakashi as he said it. "If any of you 'deceased' from Konoha were to be sighted wearing your enemy's uniforms, it would only lend strength to his deception."

"This is deeply troubling news. We couldn't attack Konoha directly?" Han asked.

"We cannot," the Deva Path said. "Leaving aside the tremendous death toll such an action would cause, they have a hostage. I cannot simply storm the village for the same reason Madara could not–I risk killing the bijū he removed from Utakata and resealed into one of his own agents. If the vessel dies the chakra will disperse. Although bijū are impossible to kill in the traditional sense of the word, it can take years for one to reform and we could all very well be dead by then.

"Having lost the Kyūbi, we must also assume Konoha will target the Ichibi. Removing Gaara-kun to Amegakure is now one of our highest priorities. However, the beast is notoriously unstable, and the seal that binds him is the weakest of all nine. To protect Gaara, he will need to be taken within the city, but that puts the citizens of Amegakure at an unacceptable risk if he were to lose control again. His seal will have to be strengthened until he learns to communicate properly with Shukaku."

"Fuinjutsu of that level of power and complexity is beyond anyone alive," Sasori said. "Only a master of Uzushiogakure would even attempt something so dangerous."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Jiraiya put in. "Just because _your_ village can't seal bijū worth a damn doesn't mean we're all hopeless at it."

Sasori glared at him.

"The seal which Uzumaki Mito used on herself and her successor Kushina was unbreakable," the Deva Path said. "Naruto-kun has good reason to believe the secret libraries of Uzushiogakure still exist, and it is probably recorded there, along with a wealth of other material that will likely prove invaluable in combatting Edo Tensei. Mito herself was able to break the compulsion controlling her, and the foundation of all summoning jutsu can be traced back to the techniques of the Uzumaki. That is why Jiraiya and I will be traveling to the ruins to retrieve as much material as we can. A living Uzumaki clan member would be the only person capable of opening the locks.

"Sasori—you know the desert and Gaara will remain your objective… but you are in need of a new partner after Orochimaru's desertion. Achieving our goals will be difficult, if not impossible, if the jinchuriki view us as their enemies. If Naruto has formed a bond of trust with Gaara, it may make the difference between success and failure. That is why I would like him to accompany you on this mission."

The Konoha shinobi all erupted into protests equally as loud and vociferous as what Sasori flung at their leader. "Is this some kind of joke?" he snarled. "I am not a _babysitter_."

"I'll go," Kakashi said, before Itachi could open his mouth to volunteer. "The kid will be my responsibility."

Hatred was boiling under the surface of Sasori's vacant eyes. "I will do whatever you order me to do, Pain-sama… but _not_ with a Hatake."

"When you joined Akatsuki you agreed to put aside personal matters of this kind," the Deva Path said. He looked to Naruto. "As will you."

"But he–" Naruto screeched.

"Allowing Naruto into disputed territory is too dangerous," Itachi said. "I can bring Gaara back myself. I've spoken to him before and it is highly likely I could persuade him to return without resorting to violence."

"Nice try, but no, and he's backing me up on this," Tsunade said, thumbing in the direction of the Deva Path. "You're both a wreck and still contagious. Three weeks of strong antibiotics and close medical supervision and you should be fit for missions again. You try to squirm loose of the treatment course, and you get to find out whether or not I was joking about breaking your legs to keep you in a hospital bed."

"Tsunade will remain here to overhaul the Amegakure Medical Corps and manage logistics in cooperation with Konan, who will be leading Amegakure in my stead and coordinating country-wide communication with her paper techniques. I am keenly aware of the advantage Tsunade's medical and organizational expertise gave Konoha during the last war. Mei, I would like you to take primary responsibility for the defense of Amegakure and the surrounding countryside."

"You gave the shinobi who followed me from Kirigakure shelter when we had nowhere else to go," Mei said. "We intend to repay the favor. No troops loyal to Shimura Danzō will cross the bridges of your city as long as there are Kiri shinobi alive to defend them."

"Yagura, Fū, Rōshi, Han–you will be under Mei's direct command. Konoha's numbers are far greater than ours, but I am confident four jinchūriki will go a very long way toward evening out that imbalance of firepower."

Yagura dipped his head to the Deva Path. "We'll do nothing less than our best, Pain-sama."

-ooo-

Naruto puffed out his cheeks in a sigh. He resettled his backside against the cushion in the small conference room Yagura had claimed for them, trying to concentrate on what his newest teacher was saying. He was worried about Itachi, and the prospect of going anywhere with Sasori disgusted him.

"I know this may be frightening, but Isobu-sama and I will be with you, and you have an excellent seal," Yagura assured Naruto. He was sitting cross-legged across from the boy, his coat on a peg mounted near the doorframe. "The culmination of this training is extremely risky, but in these early stages you have nothing to fear. I have heard there are secret training grounds in Lightning Country that could have aided you, but the Raikage is no friend of ours and we'll have to make do without them… the slow and steady way."

"Not gonna lie… I hate slow and steady," Naruto complained. The other man's manner, conscientious and strict but not unkind, reminded Naruto of strongly of Umino Iruka. Yagura held out his hands, pale and delicately boned. Naruto gripped them, as he'd been instructed, and felt himself being pulled away from the room in which they sat.

There was a burst of cold against his skin, and panic came with it as he realized he was deep underwater. He kicked up towards the sunlight above his head on pure instinct.

"Naruto-kun, calm down, _calm down_," Yagura ordered, pulling him back down toward the sea floor. "Your body is still in Amegakure, and breathing here is completely optional."

Yagura's words made it unimpeded through the seawater, and as Naruto ceased struggling, he realized he was fine. Neither his lungs nor his eyes were burning from the salt, and he could breathe the liquid without ill effect.

The two of them were suspended before a massive reef. The interior was hollow, and broken chunks of the wall littered the sandy bottom, caressed by rippling sunlight. The remains of a seal were still visible, carved into the coral.

A dark shape was approaching from the direction of the open ocean. The shadow tripped a primal fear, and Naruto couldn't help but shrink from it. Yagura didn't. The turtle shape drew more distinct as Isobu drew nearer, propelled by his three muscular tails. A single crimson eye pinned Naruto against the reef wall, peering out from the spines obscuring his face.

Yagura kicked up to place his hand on one of the organic spikes, completely at ease. "I'm sorry to wake you again so soon, but Naruto was anxious to begin and I know how much you enjoy telling this story."

"I do, at that," the beast answered. "I enjoy telling stories… when there is someone to listen to them."

Yagura motioned for Naruto to join him on the beast's head. "All ears," Naruto said, nervously, as he settled himself against the turtle's neck.

The tails began to pump again, sending them leisurely around the perimeter of the reef. There were no fish, but the knobby coral, sponges, and sea fans were a riot of colors and textures. "I remember when we were as one. We all remember. And before that, still, I remember," Isobu intoned. "The world was born in fire and poison. The whole earth shook and boiled without cease, for a span of time that was millions upon millions of lifetimes of men. After these many years the great rifts slowly filled with cool water, the stone ceased its trembling, the green things came, the air cleared. The power beyond measure continued to slumber inside the earth as its surface was populated with all matter of creatures. When it stirred, it would thrust up mountain ranges or lay waste to them, birth islands or destroy them, carve rivers or dam them.

"It was not until one _particular_ creature came to be, in a fraction of a sliver of an eye-blink in the lifetime of the world, that the power began twisting in on itself, growing stagnant and rotten. When the Jyūbi rose from the smoking peaks it took the shape of a man. It came to this earth cloaked in the flesh of those who made it and unmade it."

"Made it? What do you mean?" Naruto asked.

"There were no demons before there were men," Isobu said.

"You mean... _humans_ created the Jyūbi? How?"

"Not even the bijū are sure," Yagura said. "But I believe it was simply a mirror. There is nothing in this world as cruel as a human being. That was what gave it its form."

"When a human vessel calls on their bijū's chakra, our will comes along with it, polluted with the hatred we have felt for so long," Isobu said. "What few have realized is that the _reverse_ is also true. Madara's binding upon Yagura's mind mingled the will of a caring, generous young man with that of a demon, and, unlike chakra, a spirit is not a finite thing. A man and a monster are potentially equals.

"There was a reason we were originally sealed into human beings rather than any other vessel. Most of you humans have heard the story of the sealing of the Jyūbi, a folktale that entertains your children, but your version is incomplete. You know the Rikudō Sennin faced the beast and sealed it within himself, becoming the first jinchūriki. When he was old and sick and near death, he used the last of his power to give imagination form, and split the chakra into nine distinct creatures so that others could take up the duty his failing body had forced him to relinquish.

"The part that is never told, for we are the only ones who know it, was that the Rikudō Sennin couldn't complete that task alone. The creation of a jinchūriki has always required a human sacrifice, and for the first of them it was no different. It was his wife and the mother of his two infant sons that offered her life for the peace of the world. Every sealing thereafter was meant to be _self_-sacrifice. We bijū were to learn of the pure love that would drive one human being to willingly give their life for another.

"Once we fully comprehended the power of this sacrifice, the darkness we carried inside us would have dissipated. Over the centuries, the jinchūriki were intended to cleanse our chakra just as a marsh cleanses polluted water. The massive power stored in each jinchūriki would be released harmlessly into the world, purified and unified. I myself spoke to the Pain that leads you, and convinced him the path to peace could not be achieved as long as we were still trapped in these tainted forms."

"But you'd die," Naruto breathed.

"We cannot die, not as long as this planet still spins. We would only be returning home, and I, for one, would welcome it. I told you before… this is a lonely life we lead."

Leaving Naruto to chew on that tale for a bit, Yagura finally said, "We can go to speak to Kurama when you're ready. All the bijū's minds are still connected, and if their vessels are in close proximity they can converse, if they wish."

Naruto nodded. "Ready."

He felt another mental tug as Isobu brought them to his own mindscape, so forbidding and dank after colors and freedom of shallow sea. Two massive, gleaming orbs appeared in the darkness beyond the gate, flashing green and then red as the Kyūbi shifted its massive body to face him. It lowered its head, so its snout was nearly pressed against the bars. Its fetid breath sent his clothes fluttering.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he growled, addressing the turtle as he pushed his way through the unfinished stone of the floor. The hall seemed to grow, the ceiling rising into the darkness, to accommodate his bulk.

"I asked him to come," Naruto said. "To break the cycle of hatred, I think I'd better start with you and me, Kurama."

The Kyūbi blinked at him once, visibly startled at being called by name, then began to roar with laughter. The sound made the stones of its prison thrum. "We bijū _are_ hatred. Would you ask a wolf not to hunt? A scorpion not to sting? To succeed you would have to kill us all, a task not even the Rikudō Sennin could complete." It chuckled one last time. "And you are no sage. You are one small, powerless, insignificant child."

"If that is true…" Yagura said, placing his hand on Naruto's shoulder, and addressing the fox without fear, "why are you so hesitant to listen to what he has to say?"

"I think you're full of it," Naruto told him, refusing to let the opinion of a millennia-old demon wriggle under his skin. "Yeah, the sage did know he couldn't do it. I think that's why he was a teacher. He knew someday, someone would come along who could."

"And you believe that someone is you? How painfully naive. Unless you require my chakra, or are interested in removing that insignificant scrap of paper, I am going back to sleep."

"Fine by me," Naruto said, settling in for a wait. "I know your fox ears can hear everything I say, so I'm just going to keep on talking. It's not like you can kick me out of my own brain. I've never been in a war, but I've heard the longer you spend with your enemies, the more alike you realize you are. I think you've seen an awful lot, looking through the eyes of the jinchūriki that came before me. You probably know my birth mother better than just about anyone left alive. You're really old and really powerful, but I'm not so sure you're _evil_."

"How sweet. But I do not care one whit for humanity's welfare and I never have," Kurama said archly.

"Is that so?" Isobu asked, his voice sly and gravelly. "You've shed tears for a mortal before."

A shiver ran down the Kyūbi's spine and his ears momentarily folded back. The merciless butcher, the destroyer of villages, a beast whose scream could rend the earth itself, was _embarrassed._ "Pay him no mind; the turtle is an inveterate liar."

"Shall I ask Han and Kokuō here as well, when they return from Lightning Country? She remembers it as well as I. You were the last the sage made… the youngest son. You mourned his passing more bitterly than any of us."

The Kyūbi's ears began to twitch in irritation, as if troubled by a pesky fly.

Naruto looked at the fox with new eyes, his heart still raw with his own grief. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Kurama exploded with anger, leaping to all fours and bristling his tails. The strength of his voice sent Naruto stumbling back a few steps. "_Leave me! I don't want your pity_!"

Naruto came closer instead, reclaiming the ground its forceful breath had cost. "You killed my birth parents, and a lot of other people besides. I figure I have two choices. I can keep on hating you." Naruto took a heavy breath. "Or I can forgive you. You've been kept a prisoner in Konoha for a hundred years. If that had been done to me I probably would've gone crazy with pain when I was finally set free, too.

"You know what I think?" Naruto continued. "I think you really are lonely. There's this huge, amazing world out there, and you can never be part of it because you're trapped here in the dark. You keep yourself angry all the time because feeling anything else is even worse."

The Kyūbi snorted, turned his back to Naruto. "Your sense of empathy is astounding. I've realize the error of my ways. Let me out and we can go frolic in a meadow."

"Huh. Now you're not even trying. Don't you ever think about anything other than trying to trick me into releasing the seal?"

"Killing you and everyone you hold dear. Slowly and messily." It grinned maliciously, looking over its shoulder. "That list has been growing thin of late, hasn't it? I have seen the scourge that is taking Uchiha Itachi take many others. Their suffering was exquisite."

"Tsunade is gonna take good care of him. She's the best healer in the world," Naruto said.

"The sickness in his _body_ isn't what I meant," he said, enunciating each word so they bit like razors. "What ails him is something no physician can touch. There is no pill, no tincture, no liniment that can heal your brother. I watched as it felled Kushina's teacher, a shinobi of great power and renown. He became a shadow of himself, until he faded away into a pathetic, helpless, broken old man. And there was nothing she could do to save him. Nothing."

-ooo-

When the meeting was dismissed, Itachi slipped away to scale one of the rusting hulks that towered over the city. Invisible, he tucked himself into a tangle of exhaust vents and service ladders to shield himself from the rain. Ame was at roughly the same latitude as Konoha, but even in summer the air retained a hint of chill. It sank deeper into his fingers and toes as the sun set.

He was avoiding Kakashi, Naruto, and Sakura, and not because of the sickness that was festering his lungs. He had always found great comfort in solitude and silence, but today it only made his head feel like a jar of rusty screws, filthy and jangling with the scorn his own mind was screaming at him for his failures. Not only had he lost hold of his mother, brother, and stepfather, but all of Konoha was now bereft of a leader who could have led them with humility and compassion.

A war like no other was threatening to smother the shinobi countries and the millions of people that called them home. Stopping a conflict like this had been his singular goal, ever since he had awakened his sharingan at the age of four to the carnage that the Third Great War had brought to Konoha's walls. There was nothing he had wanted more than to spare his brothers that horror.

And he'd failed.

His fingers were white and numb when he finally slunk back inside the service door atop his hotel. Naruto was waiting for him at the entrance to his suite, his face locked in a scowl.

"Please move," Itachi said.

"I need to talk to you," Naruto said, refusing to pick himself up from the carpet.

"I asked you to move," Itachi repeated.

Naruto stuck out his chin and pulled his crossed arms tighter against his chest. "Make me."

Itachi didn't. He could have, in a hundred different ways, but he didn't.

Emboldened, Naruto grabbed the doorknob to heave himself up. "Gimme your key," he ordered, holding out his hand.

Itachi had no patience left for the nigh-unscalable wall of his brother's stubbornness, so he handed it over, briefly considering, and then discarding, the idea of shoving the boy out and slamming the door in his face. Itachi pulled the elastic band from his hair, massaging away the ache of keeping it pulled tight against his scalp. "What is it that you wanted to say to me?"

"How are you feeling?" Naruto leaned against the desk, rocking against the edge in agitation.

"Fine."

"You're _not _fine. _You're the opposite of fine_!" Naruto exploded. "You are so good at pretending you're okay, when really you're hurting so much inside you want to die." Naruto let his hands slip free of the wood. "Nii-chan… say something. Please!"

"Get out of my room."

Naruto recoiled as if he'd been struck. "Why are you doing this to me?!" he cried. He stumbled backward into the wall, hugging his forearms to his belly. Drops of anguish began to slide down his cheeks. "I let the Kyūbi hurt you. _I _hurt you. You told me it was okay, when we were coming back from Suna, but it's not. It's never gonna be okay. You did love Sasuke best. He had the sharingan, he was a genius, he was growing up to be just like you. I was just... I was never... I was never an Uchiha. I'm never going to be.

"But you now what? I. Don't. Care," he said, straightening to scrub fiercely at the tears. "You can't kick me out–I quit. I found my real clan. I learned I'm not the last of the Uzumaki. That's what you can call me from now on. Uzumaki Naruto."

He was waiting. Itachi could tell. He was yearning with every fiber of his being for his brother to tell him he was wrong… which he was,. But if there was someone else that would care for him now, he no longer needed the Uchiha, and especially not someone who had caused him as much grief as Itachi.

When he said nothing, Naruto moved to leave, hunched like an iron bar had been pressed down on his shoulders. Lightheaded from the chill and the lies and the soreness in his chest, Itachi sank down on the bed. "Naruto," he said, when his brother had just passed the threshold. Naruto padded back across the carpet a few steps. "Before you go… I'd like you to know that there was never a moment when you were unwanted. Wherever your life takes you, I wish you luck. All this death is my burden, and I–not you–should pay the price for it."

Naruto took one more step forward and then closed the distance between them with a few bounds. He slid his knee on the mattress and threw his arms around his brother. "That is the wrongest thing that's _ever_ come out of your mouth," he said, quiet but ardent. "You're not as different from Ka-chan as you thought. You're not above the Uchiha curse, not if what you do when you lose someone is turn that hatred inside." Still hanging against Itachi's shoulder, Naruto nestled his cheek against the fabric of his brother's sleeve. "You were always so kind and patient with me and Sasuke. How could you be so cruel to _yourself_? You're worth forgiving, Nii-chan–I already have. And we haven't lost Konoha yet. We have friends now we didn't know that we had. It'll be hard, but it's not hopeless. As long as we're alive, it's not hopeless."

Itachi remembered very clearly the last time he had cried real tears, not the thick, sticky blood that was the price of the Mangekyō sharingan. It had been almost exactly ten years ago–the day he had taken his first life, and was no more a child. He'd had no one to comfort him then, but now...

Naruto straightened a little and said, "I swear on mom's grave I won't tell if you cry. Not anybody. For as long as I live."

Heat was building behind his eyes–his mother's eyes–and before he could stop it, it was dripping down his face. It was only a few minutes, and in silence, perfect silence. When he finished, a little of the pressure against his soul had eased. Naruto let his arms fall and fetched a box of tissues from the bedside table.

Naruto took a few himself and swabbed his nose and cheeks. "When I was a little kid, what I wanted most in the entire world was a real family," he said. "Then I got one. A _great_ one. It wasn't perfect… but I loved it. Every second.

"I thought nothing could hurt worse than being so alone. I was wrong. Losing someone you love is worse than not knowing them at all. I don't regret it, though. Never. Maybe some people would give up, stop pushing themselves forward until they died where they stood. Maybe some people would have their hearts turned inside-out so all they could do was hate. That isn't who I am.

"What about my friends back in Konoha or Suna? If we don't stop Danzō, their families are going to get smashed up as bad as mine—maybe worse. Do you know what he does to the kids he recruited in Root? He gives each one a brother. They get older. They train together. They learn to trust each other. And then… he forces them to fight each other. One to one. To the death. As much as my heart hurts now, I can't imagine there's anything worse, in the wholeworld, than having to kill someone you love.

"That's why I can't give up. What about our baby cousin? Or Hinata's little sister? What if he does it to them? If someone doesn't stop Danzō, he'll turn our village… the whole _world_… into something as terrible as the Bloody Mist."

If Itachi's voice had not been dead in his throat, he could have spoken to that from bitter experience. After Shisui had drowned, Itachi's hands tangled in his hair in the icy river water, it was Naruto who had made him feel human again. He had been so small then, all missing teeth and ingenuous eyes and inexhaustible laughter. His world didn't have room for melancholy, and in time he had chased those insidious demons out of the Uchiha mansion with the aptitude of a master exorcist.

"Having the people you care about torn out of your life hurts, really bad, for a long time, but we're shinobi, aren't we?" Naruto asked. "We don't let pain keep us down. Don't you remember what you told us the very first day you became my teacher? I do."

"You can trust to each other's strength when your own fails you," he said, echoing his own words.

"You're part of Team Seven," Naruto said. He tucked his legs under him, worrying at the damp tissue in his hands. "That goes for you too. Sakura and I aren't going to be kids forever. I'm not sure we're still kids now. Learning that the people you used to rely on for everything sometimes need to rely on you is… well… a big part of what growing up means. Tsunade can manage the cough and the fever. It's the inside that _you_ need to concentrate on healing. It's our turn to take care of you_–_just for a little while. And I think you need to have a good, long talk with Kakashi-sensei. He cares about you a lot and you've been treating him like total garbage."

Accepting help had never been one of Itachi's strengths, but they were wise words, even if he hadn't fully grasped their meaning when he'd said them. "I will… thank you," he whispered.

"Nii-chan, you are Konoha's strongest, sneakiest, brainiest genjutsu super-genius. This war with Konoha… the only way to win it, _really_ win it, is to kill as few people on the other side as we can. And that's the kind of thing you're really good at. Best in the world, even. We need to get back in touch with the other jōnin that would listen to you. We need the people who understand what our village means_, _so they can help us knock that bastard down from below.

"We can get our home back, but that means you need to _be around_ to do it. Tomorrow morning, you're checking into the hospital. And you have to promise you'll get plenty of rest and eat your vegetables and drink all the medicine Tsunade gives you even if it tastes like month-old dirty underwear."

A ghost of a smile. "I promise."

"That had better be a Naruto-style promise. A _real_ promise," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Not the crummy kind you usually make that falls over as soon as you sneeze on it."

"It's a real promise," Itachi assured him. "Naruto, I need you to understand that if you chose to walk this path with me, your enemies will still be Konoha shinobi, and we won't be able to save them all. You may even find yourself facing your clansmen or your friends from your Academy days. Are you sure you're prepared to shoulder that kind of burden?"

"I don't know," Naruto answered. "I just have to trust that–if I do meet someone I care about on the battlefield–I'll be able to make them _understand_."

"I have found myself in that position before, during the Uchiha Rebellion." He dropped his eyes. "I failed. But somehow… I think you will fare much better than I did."

They lapsed into silence, comfortable and brief.

"And about finding my clan… changing my name, I–" Naruto began.

"There are dozens of Uchiha, but the Uzumaki are nearly extinct. I understand," Itachi said, forestalling an apology that was not needed. "We are still brothers, and no matter what you choose to call yourself, that will never change.

"I never really wanted to lead Konoha the way things were, with us falling into conflict with the other hidden villages every ten or twenty years, but in this new world of Pain-sama's it's a challenge I would embrace. We _are_ only six years apart. You would have to wait quite a long time to become Hokage… but the position of Uzukage is, at present, unoccupied. If you wanted to take up the task of restoring your clan when this war is over–even rebuilding Uzushiogakure–I'll help you in any way I can. The world could use an example of the new kind of shinobi Pain wants to see. If there could be built a village free of the mistakes of the past… one that serves its country's people rather than being served by them… one invested in preserving peace rather than breaking it… I could think of no one better to lead such a place than you."

Naruto's smile lit every nook and cranny of the room, and he hugged Itachi once again.

"You're welcome, you're welcome–now _please_ let go of me," Itachi said, in better humor than he'd been in weeks. "Tradition takes a long time to shake free, especially when the status quo benefits those in power, and true peace may not be something we can achieve for years, even decades."

"I'll deal," Naruto said, undeterred. "I'm an Uzumaki. I plan on living to be a hundred, no sweat–believe it. Besides, that's what teachers are for. Even if some of us humans slip up, if enough of us show the next generation how important peace is, I think we'll be okay. Now I just have to find a girl who believes in this as much as I do. And wants to have bunches of my babies." On that hopeful note, a yawn crept out of his mouth. He stretched luxuriously and flopped onto the bed. "You know, we have zilch to do right now. When was the last time that happened to you?"

"I don't even remember," Itachi answered.

"Think you could eat something?"

"A little."

"Then here is tonight's agenda: you fill up your big bubbly bathtub, and I fill up mine, and once our fingers are properly wrinkly we get the nice lady at the front desk to send us up some food–you can do it with that telephone thing, it's so neat. Then while we're eating we watch this enormous television together until our brains leak out our ears. You aren't officially Hokage anymore so you can't overrule this plan."

"Naruto, I don't think–"

"_No overruling_. The world isn't gonna end if Uchiha Itachi takes a break from trying to save it for one night to watch some tv in his bathrobe. Geez."


	29. Chapter 29

Going on another short hiatus. Please don't kill me. If you'd like to know why, google 'clientsfromhell'–story of my life.

**Continuity Disclaimer**: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

**Beta Credits**: HakorTheEgyptianPharoah

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 29 Oo.<strong>

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><p>"There's no Memorial Stone for you to bum around at and you're <em>still <em>late," Naruto said, as his teacher and his loyal ninken companion stepped out of the elevator into the hotel lobby. Naruto gave up counting the ceiling tiles and got up from the plush bench.

"Alarm clock had too many buttons to set. I gave up," Kakashi said, conspicuously not apologizing for appearing half an hour behind schedule.

"Some genius," Naruto said under his breath. He had mimicked his senior Fū in the open drape of his boxy coat, and the good-luck charm she'd given him was dangling at his hip. The navy top that should have matched his pants was nowhere to be seen, and in its place was a black shirt trimmed in orange at the neck and hem. The Uzumaki whirlpool was screenprinted on the chest.

Kakashi blinked at it. "That shirt's not–"

"Uniform-schmuniform," Naruto interrupted, donning his rice-straw hat and zipping up his new coat in preparation for stepping into the drizzle. "The boss said it was fine. For somebody with such a creepy nickname, he's actually pretty nice."

They ducked out of the spotless glass doors of the hotel. Even given the early hour, people were swarming in the streets in preparation for a possible attack by Konoha. The Ame jōnin kept a tight lid on the simmering chaos, directing the frightened farmers pouring into the city and the green, nervous genin and chūnin pouring out to assemble in the valley. Braving the rain, Konan's butterflies flocked around the capitol tower, bearing messages about the preparations from all over the country. Traps and fortifications were grinding out of the earth past the city limits.

They made their way to one of the bridges and crossed its span, since the opposite tower was the agreed-upon rendezvous point with Sasori. The puppeteer was already standing in the shadows of the tower. The rain had glued his coat to his slender body. He was troubled by neither cold nor damp, and did not seek shelter from the disagreeable weather. He looked with bored distaste at a couple saying their goodbyes on the bridge's abutment. The young man reluctantly released his tearful lover and turned to join his platoon in the valley.

The glass orbs rolled over to Kakashi. "I don't like being kept waiting," Sasori said.

"Sorry, I had to clear something up with Itachi this morning and he–"

"Or excuses," he said acidly. "I can already see you and I are going to get along _splendidly_."

Sasori left the cheers behind as quickly as he could, clearly irritated by the patriotism glowing from the faces of the Ame shinobi around them. They took the muddy country roads into the afternoon, with the puppeteer taking the lead and Kakashi, with Naruto and Pakkun trotting beside him, several meters behind. Sasori did not once let his pace slacken to join in their conversations.

The route he had chosen would have them crossing the border at the southwestern corner of Storm Country. After they moved into Wind, hints about where the Suna rebels had secreted themselves would be hard to come by. It could be weeks before they located Gaara… assuming Konoha didn't find him first.

A meticulous, clandestine search wasn't something Naruto had much patience for. He was frankly terrified for his friend… as well as for Hinata. She had disappeared from Sunagakure at the same time as Baki's team, and he didn't know whether she was alive or dead. The search team headed by her father hadn't returned before Naruto had been plucked from the village by the toad clan. When she chose to go with Gaara, instead of waiting patiently under the protection of the the Sunagakure shinobi who'd capitulated to Konoha's 'peacekeeping forces', Hinata had branded herself a rogue ninja. If she was captured, the consequences for her would be dire.

The persistent drizzle let up around when they crossed the tail end of the mountain range on Wind Country's northern border. The sparse forest became sparser, giving way to savannah and then a true desert of pale rock and dust. Wind Country's summer was truly brutal, and even a shinobi as resilient as Kakashi risked heat stroke by staying too long under the open sky.

On the third day in the desert, he and Naruto had broken for a quick meal beneath the shelter of an abandoned mine entrance. Scavengers had picked the site clean of valuable scrap metal, and all that was left was some splintered scraps of wood from old carts and tools. They hadn't seen another soul in days.

Sasori, as usual, slathered on his disgust for the delays required by his traveling companions' fleshy bodies. The easygoing Kakashi had been ignoring it so far, but this time, as he finished his hasty meal he said, "I've never been someone who's been all that concerned about being liked… but this goes beyond dislike. You loathe me. As far I know, we've never met before I came to Ame, so would you mind explaining why?"

Sasori didn't turn to answer him directly, instead tossing the words to the bleak plain.

"My parents died at the hands of the White Fang, and he robbed me of the satisfaction of gutting him by doing the deed himself. Does that answer your question?"

It was only when he finished speaking that he looked back at Kakashi, probing his hidden face for some reaction. When none was forthcoming, he snorted in derision and readied to set off again.

"Kakashi-sensei…" Naruto said hesitantly. "Who was the White Fang? It sounds familiar, but I don't quite remember…"

"That was the name Hatake Sakumo earned for himself during the Second Great War," Pakkun supplied, without inflection, "Kakashi's father."

As the cruelty of Sasori's barbs sank in, Naruto shot to his feet and stamped after him. "You are a horrible, _horrible_ person!" he shouted at the puppeteer's back. He kicked at a passing tumbleweed as Kakashi joined him in the open. "As soon as we're done with this mission, I'm asking the boss to kick him out. Jerkbag. How could what happened have possibly been your fault?! You were like, what… four?"

Kakashi stuffed the wrapper of his travel rations into his pocket and hiked up the desolate hill to confront Sasori. Naruto stalked along behind. Although the redhead was significantly shorter, Kakashi's looming form didn't perturb him.

"From what I can gather, you are an immoral, sadistic, and generally repulsive human being," Kakashi said evenly. "What's worse is that you seem to enjoy it. But until we return to Amegakure, you are my teammate and my comrade. Until you die or betray me or Naruto, I consider it my duty to do everything I can to see you return to Ame," he paused, "if not _alive_, not any more dead than you already are."

"As if I would ever require your assistance," Sasori scoffed. "Pain-sama respects your skills and intelligence or he wouldn't have invited you to join Akatsuki. Before we left he gave me the explicit order not to kill you." His voice fell lower, sending a chill across the sunbaked sand. "I think we both know which of us would still be standing here if he hadn't. And I've heard all about your precious Will of Fire from my former partner. I'm sure you can appreciate how well that worked out for me the first time."

"Just because Orochimaru spit on it doesn't mean Kakashi-sensei will," Naruto said. "He's the last person on earth who'd ever turn on a comrade–not for orders, not for power, not for money… never."

Sasori rolled his eyes. "Everyone you trust will betray you eventually–that is the way of the world. It's a lesson you would do well to learn, brat."

-ooo-

Their first stop to gather intelligence was an emerald shimmering in the sandy hills, an oasis town shadowed by palms and scraggly citrus trees. The sheep corrals were empty and the market square was deserted, and what few townspeople that had chosen to brave the conflicts churning around them went about their business with a wary eye on the horizon. Sasori avoided the houses clustered around the spring and made instead for an almost invisible path leading into the rock at the town's outskirts. There was an unusual quantity of hawks circling the spire that peeked out of the ridges.

The rock formation's base was revealed to be rooted beside a modest farmhouse, and the man-made tower itself was hollow, covered with small windows from which messenger birds could come and go. A brunette woman, her back to them, was treading foot pedals for a water pump that irrigated the patches of melons and corn that encircled the house. Her similarly dark-haired child, a girl of about five or six, was tossing grain to the boisterous chickens in their wire and scrap-wood coop.

Instead of calling to the lean farm wife to get her attention, Sasori flicked out a handful of chakra threads to physically pull her off the pump and spin her around to face him.

"Find me your husband," he ordered.

All the threads snapped free at once, unbalancing her, and she pitched forward and struck her lip on a protruding rock. She pushed herself, up, blood oozing down her chin. The little girl screamed and dropped the bowl of chicken feed. She ran halfway to her mother, stopped, and with the brazen courage of a small child, palmed a stone and prepared to lob it at Sasori.

The front door swung open and another set of chakra threads emerged, catching the rock just as it left her hand. The shinobi that produced them was wearing an unzipped, battered Sunagakure flak jacket, and the lower sleeves of his gray fatigues were a mess of mended tears. He lifted the girl's slight weight into the air and she went sailing into his arms before she could propel herself into very serious trouble. The woman fled past him and into the shadows of the house.

From beneath his coat, Sasori extracted a slender storage scroll and spun it around his fingers with casual dexterity.

"You've had no trouble breaking Konoha's codes with the cyphers you were supplied, I trust? The correspondence records are up to date?"

Still stroking his daughter's hair, he nodded mutely.

"You are a traitor, a weakling, and a coward, but you do as you're told, which is worth enough to me. Four spares, as promised. I am going to the aviary to look through the notes. These two will be spending the night in your home. Do not disturb me." He spun around and disappeared into the tower, slamming the door behind him.

"Jerk," Naruto muttered. He dug around in his pockets for the last of a bar of chocolate he'd been saving. It had melted and solidified at least three times into the nooks and crannies of the wrapper, but it was the only thing in the way of a peace offering he had.

"If times are tight, we can pay you for the room and the meal," Kakashi offered, glancing at the dark house and empty gasoline cans scattered around their generator.

Naruto finished picking the paper off and broke the slab of candy apart and, placing the smaller piece in his mouth to prove it wasn't poisoned, presented the larger to the girl. The man still didn't speak, looking frightened and now extremely confused.

"Hey, he just offered to pay you… you can relax," Naruto said. "We're not the bad guys. Not the two of us at least–I'm not speaking for Prince Dickwad of Dickwad Castle. This is really just chocolate. I swear."

She started to wiggle in his arms and her father had to put her down. She signed, _Papa, the man with the mask said he would pay us. None of the men in black coats gave me chocolate before. I like the one with yellow hair. Will you be mad if I eat this before breakfast?_

Understanding finally rippled across his face. Pleasantly surprised, he shook his head no, and she skipped back into the house with the chunk of candy between her teeth.

"If you talk more loudly than you normally would, and let me see your lips when you speak, I can understand you," he said. "I'm mostly deaf."

"I'm Uchi…I mean Uzumaki Naruto, and this is Hatake Kakashi. Thanks for letting us stay here tonight," Naruto said. He took a deep breath to continue speaking even more loudly, hoping it would carrying into the tower windows. "We don't like that Sasori guy either. If he tripped and fell into a woodchipper I wouldn't shed a single tear!"

"I'm Tahara; in Wind Country most people have only one name," he said, finally starting to smile. "Natsumi is my wife and our girl is Miu. You can come on inside where it's cool. Half the house is underground. It's bigger than it looks."

Fuel for the generator was in short supply, so it was rather dark, but the interior was comfortable enough. Company was rare and the living room was scattered with homemade toys, which Tahara's wife began hastily scooping up as soon as she emerged from the bathroom with a square of gauze taped to her chin. Breakfast preparations were already laid out around the kitchen–some dried herbs soaking in water and eggs and vegetables still warm from the desert summer in a basket on the floor.

When Natsumi and her daughter dropped the last armful of dolls into a trunk, Tahara repeated the introductions to his wife in sign language. She bowed to Kakashi and Naruto. When she spoke it was halting, and the words were oddly blunted, but she was understandable.

"That was very kind of you–candy can be hard to find here." Her lips pinched in shame. "We don't often have visitors. All the fresh meat we already gave to the hawks. There isn't any left for your dog. I'm very sorry."

"It's no problem. I like eggs. I'll have pretty much what he's having," Pakkun said politely.

For her parents' benefit, Miu translated with her hands as she'd done before. "You have a talking puppy?!" she squealed when she finished. "_A talking puppy_!?"

Pakkun found a cushion from amongst the ones scattered on the floor, circled it three times, and lay down with a sigh, thoroughly unashamed to take advantage of the offered hospitality. "You can scratch behind my ears, if you want. I wouldn't mind."

Miu followed the dog to the other side of the living room and crouched next to him, her face alighting with glee.

"He's a ninken, don't bother–" her father began.

Naruto tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Pakkun's a big softie. I don't think he minds," he said, grinning.

The girl had already pounced on Pakkun, scratching his head enthusiastically as well as admiring his petite pink paw pads. The dog gave up any pretenses of dignity and let his tongue loll out of his stubby snout in unabashed canine pleasure. Shrugging, Kakashi let Tahara know the matter was considered closed. They found places on the larger cushions, and Natsumi presented them with a small plate of sliced melon, to tide them over until the rest of the meal was ready. Her guests attended to, she busied herself with stoking the fire of the old-fashioned brick stove in the adjacent kitchen.

They watched the little girl amuse herself playing with Pakkun, until she pulled a bow out of her toy basket and tried to attach it to his neck.

"Miu, that's enough. He's a working dog. Go help your mother clean the vegetables," Tahara said. "Go on, go on."

He waited for her to make her way up the stairs before speaking again. "The last time Sasori came to comb through the messages, he was with another man from Konoha, with a pale face and eyes like a snake. He wasn't like you two at all."

Naruto grimaced. Being reminded of Orochimaru reminded him of what had happened to Sasuke. "We're only stuck with Prince Dickwad for one mission," he said. "I hope. How'd you get stuck helping a bastard like him? Did he threaten to do something to…?" He trailed off, his gaze flickering behind him to the kitchen.

"No. That wasn't why." Tahara pushed his sleeves past his biceps and held out his arms. A thin seam could be seen a halfway between his shoulder and elbow, on both sides. The prosthetics matched his skin tone perfectly, and their movement was so completely natural Naruto hadn't even noticed his hands were made of something besides muscle and bone. "Lost them in a C-Rank gone wrong–mine explosion. My arms were crushed in the same accident that cost me most of my hearing. I was thirteen.

"When Sasori's grandmother, Chiyo-sama, learned what had happened, she brought him to visit me in the hospital. He and I were the same age and we'd grown up on the same street, and I suppose she must have assumed we were friends." He shook his head. "As far as I could tell, Sasori didn't _have _friends. It wasn't like he was shy, or particularly difficult to get along with, but he just… kept to himself. I think he liked puppets a lot more than he liked people. They're a lot easier to put back together again when they've been broken.

"I didn't expect him to come back a second time. But he did… with a prototype of the same prosthetic I'm wearing now. He'd designed it on his own time, for nothing. I don't know if it was out of altruism or simply for the engineering challenge, but I didn't really care. As it was, I couldn't even feed myself, never mind trying to earn a living.

"Traditionally, a puppeteer relies on their dexterity to manipulate chakra threads, generating them in their fingertips." He held up his ersatz hands to demonstrate, flicking a crumb across the table with the almost invisible thread. "Since I didn't have fingertips any more, I needed to learn how to spool out chakra from what was left of my arms. The technique Sasori discovered, working with me, was revolutionary. I could never manage more than a few threads, just enough to control the prostheses plus a couple extra, but he could generate dozens, from anywhere on his body. And the artistry he put into the designs… it was awe-inspiring. He was just as talented a sculptor as he was a chemist and an engineer." He held his hand up in the firelight, watching the ruddy hues play over the surface. "Looks like skin, feels like skin… the only thing my hands can't do is sweat or bleed.

"I was never going to squeak past the bare minimum necessary to make chūnin, but managing one of the layover aviaries didn't require working ears, so I took the job. Sasori was the one who gave me my independence back. As low as he's sunk, I can't help but feel a little loyal to him. He wasn't always as cruel as he is now."

"Are we talking about the same person?" Naruto asked incredulously. "He's rotten to the core of his rotten little heart! He helped destroy his own village! He murdered his own teacher and his teammate!"

"I'm not saying this excuses what he's done, but he had his reasons to leave Suna. I don't think it was by choice. His teacher, our Sandaime, wasn't a… kind person. It was an open secret in the village that he beat his wife and children. The training methods he used on his students went beyond anything a sane jōnin sensei would have considered reasonable. But who could complain? He was the Kazekage. Out of his three students, Kohan turned into a beast just like him. Yura lost whatever spine he'd had. And Sasori… was the only one besides Karura, his eldest child, who ever stood up to him. It wasn't something Sasori's teacher took kindly to.

"When the Sandaime disappeared, no one suspected Sasori. There was no reason. It was his teammate Kohan that was angling for the position of Kazekage, not him. He had the fighting skills, but he was an artist, not a politician. All he wanted to do was _make_ things. Suna's future didn't matter much to him. The only people he genuinely seemed to care about were his grandmother and Karura. Maybe, that night the Sandaime disappeared, Sasori decided he'd just had enough."

"You mean he tried to protect her, didn't he. That Karura girl… from her own father," Naruto said.

"Sasori is the only one left alive who knows what happened that night. Karura and her younger brother are both dead, now. The Suna council blamed Iwagakure–they'd been bickering over mineral rights on the border for months, and it was the perfect excuse to mobilize troops. They elected Kohan as the Yondaime and he declared war on Iwa as soon as the Wind Daimyo handed him the hat, and he married a very reluctant Karura a little while later. Sasori faked his own death a few months into the fighting, just before the wedding was to take place. I didn't see him for years after that. And then one day, after Karura had died giving birth to her youngest son, a decade after the war began, he popped up again with that wooden face."

"Her youngest son," Kakashi repeated, mostly to himself, and then added, "The rumors reached us even in Konoha, about the circumstances of her death. There were suspicions... and not a lot of redheads in Suna."

-ooo-

Tahara had skillfully unsealed, deciphered and resealed a large portion of the communication flying between the Sunagakure collaborators and Konoha, and even Sasori seemed impressed enough with his thoroughness that he left the next morning without dispensing any more insults.

In the face of superior numbers, the Suna resistance hadn't been faring well, but they were stubbornly clinging to territory in the northwest. The trio set out again, moving only at night. The rugged terrain was not to their enemy's advantage. The army could march only as far as their water sources would let them, and the maps of the jagged, sparsely populated north of the country were poor. The valleys were littered with ruins that predated the establishment of Wind Country by hundreds, or even thousands, of years. Slabs of rock of revealed themselves to be weatherworn statues buried in the shifting sand.

From his wanderings as an exile, Sasori knew every oasis and every secret trail. He bartered his expertise in repairing tools and radios–skills more valuable than mere banknotes and coins–for rumors from the nomadic shepherds ranging over the desert. The gruff exchanges were fruitful for both parties; within a week he won the name of the ancient fortress where what remained of the Sunagakure rebels were probably going to make their stand.

Naruto brushed his fingers over a boulder as they passed it under the starlight, skirting the edge of an uneven plateau. Most of the swirling patterns carved over the hulk had been worn away, but Shukaku's snout and beady eyes were still recognizable.

"How much farther is it?" he asked.

The toll of shifting his sleep schedule to move during the cool night had made him sluggish and testy, and he didn't even try to keep the whine out of his voice. There had been several high-security messages Tahara hadn't been able to unseal. For all he knew, Gaara's capture could have been written inside one of them.

"_Farther_," Sasori said. "The fort is at least ten kilometers inside the rock maze. They've gone and backed themselves into a corner. Fools."

"Naruto, I told you to keep it quiet," Kakashi ordered. "This land is going to be crawling with Konoha scouting parties."

Pakkun took the lead, his nose to the dry grass and his ears pricked. Sasori summoned the small, rodent-like sensor puppet from his collection and pushed forward as well. The dog took one look at it and snorted, muttering about putting his trust only in his own nose. He padded down the narrow trail that nature had chipped from the rock face. Naruto wasn't usually bothered by heights, but the ground was a long way down and the chalky stone felt rotten beneath his sandals. He hugged the wall as he paced down the incline.

Crossing the flatter open country would have made them too visible, so they continued on that treacherous path for nearly an hour until Pakkun froze on a wide rock shelf. Kakashi's hand closed on Naruto's shoulder, keeping him from taking another step. He knew his first ninken well enough that the warning did not even need to be spoken.

Kakashi tugged up his hitai-ate. In one fluid sequence of motions, he went through half a dozen signs and slammed his hand down on the lip of the dropoff. A diagonal strip of rock disintegrated into gravel, dislodging the Konoha ANBU agents that had been creeping up the face. The chameleon jutsu that had allowed them to blend into the rock disintegrated as they lost their concentration. They tumbled to the valley floor in a shower of pebbles and didn't move again. Kakashi winced as he heard the bodies of his former comrades strike the ground below.

Sasori's reaction was belated, and judging from his sour expression, he knew it all too well. As fearsome as his puppet army was, tracking was evidently not his forte. The three puppets he'd summoned, bristling with armament to defend him and Naruto from the ANBU team, hadn't been able to fire a single shot.

"Didn't hear _them_ coming, did you?" Naruto said, smacking aside one of the sinuous wooden limbs.

Kakashi dusted off his hands as he joined them on the space where the trail widened. His hitai-ate was still pushed up even on his forehead. "Konoha has multiple methods for disrupting low-level sensory techniques. They still have a harder time shutting down a dog's nose."

An apology from Sasori was not forthcoming.

One of the puppets barred Naruto from walking any further down the trail. "And since when do you care what happens to me?" he asked Sasori. He withdrew from the tri-horned humanoid form, curling his lips in disgust. The knives that made up its four-fingered hands were malodorous with poison.

"Since Pain-sama ordered me to etch this into all my primary puppets' eyes," Sasori answered. He reached up and plucked out his left eye to show Naruto and Kakashi the compact recording and transmission seal scored into the glass. "What I see, he sees, and if I do not return with you intact, he will kill me." He casually popped it back into the socket, a procedure Naruto flinched away from watching. "You only took out three of them," he said, addressing Kakashi. "The last is trying to be clever and is setting up to ambush us from within the rock formation. Are you capable of dispatching him or should I–"

The puppet furthest from Sasori exploded into a mass of knobby growths. The wood crackled over the many joints, immobilizing the limbs and weapons compartments. The next two fell within seconds, twisting into useless hunks of metal and deformed wood. The spreading cancer even reached Sasori's main body before he could leap out of range and pull Naruto along with him, bursting apart his left forearm and tearing through the painted latex skin that made up his neck and face.

A figure in black and white emerged partially from the wall. In retaliation, Sasori showered the man's position with poisoned senbon, forcing an annoyed Kakashi to duck behind a rock formation to avoid the strays. The sound was not of the needles striking flesh, but wood, and once peppered with the projectiles the wood clone ceased moving. In the meantime, the man himself thrust a tangle of branches out of the ground beneath him to immobilize Kakashi.

He was much too quick to be caught. The wood chewed up the soft sandstone, grasping after him, but never succeeded in wrapping around his wrists. Kakashi landed beside Sasori and Naruto when the ANBU agent abandoned that useless tactic. He came to stand balanced on a broken-off rock, his hands clasped before his chest.

"So _you_ were Orochimaru's Subject Thirty-Seven. I see why he went through such trouble to cultivate the kekkei genkai," Sasori observed dryly, from cautious distance. "This could be very… inconvenient," he admitted to Kakashi. "I don't think I can touch him without sacrificing a significant part of my collection–every one of my puppets possesses at least some wooden components."

"If anyone could hold his ground against a master puppeteer, it would be Tenzō," Kakashi said. "I'll stop him. I mentored him in ANBU; I know how he fights inside-out."

Naruto gasped. "If he's your friend, you can't–"

"I made the decision when I took the ring," Kakashi said grimly. "Protecting you is more important. Go."

-ooo-

Peering around a pinnacle of sandstone, Kakashi shut his right eye and his opponent's body took on an aura of possibilities–an ANBU agent of Tenzō's caliber demanded nothing less. The last time they'd been sparring on a regular basis had been three years ago, just before he quit the elite organization. Kakashi had won most of those matches… but not all of them. Not all of them. He had more experience and the advantage of a sharingan, but his former kohai had greater stamina and defensive abilities.

Kakashi kept his feet light against the ground, ready to spring away. He had no desire to make the first move. "Circumstances may have put us on opposite sides of this war, but the last thing I want to is fight you," Kakashi called. "Danzō's lied to you and all of Konoha!"

"The Hokage warned us you'd say that," Tenzō answered, unmoved. His porcelain mask kept his expression unreadable, but his voice was blackened with anger. "Pain… if you can hear me through his ears, I'd like you to know that this isn't going to work. I saw the Shodai. He looked as human as I do, and when he was cut he even bled. Hatake Kakashi is already dead, and what you've done to him is unforgivable."

A wall of spikes sprouted between them just as Tenzō finished speaking. Kakashi wove between the serpentine points, rotated in midair, and reduced them to brittle charcoal with a spray of fire. He took cover behind another broken stone turret, wracking his brain for some way to disable the younger man without seriously injuring him. His command of earth and water jutsu could very well be better than Kakashi's own by now, and his strongest elemental affinities, of fire and lightning, were primarily killing techniques. A genjutsu of sleep would never work either; Tenzō knew perfectly well how dangerous his sharingan was and had stopped falling for that trick in his teens.

The mokuton was the strongest and most versatile elemental synthesis Konoha boasted; the fact that none of Hashirama's descendants had inherited it was still a sore point among the Senju. Like Kakashi, Tenzō had had to stumble his way through learning how to control a foreign kekkei genkai alone. He faced resentment and distrust from the clan from which it had originally sprung, and the circumstances under which he'd been bestowed the skill were heart-wrenching.

It was why Kakashi had taken such an interest in his career in the first place.

The blowing dust increased suddenly and unnaturally in quantity and Kakashi realized the rocks on either side of him were dissolving. Squinting against the irritation in his eyes, he could just barely see movement through the dust cloud. He dropped through the rock formation on which he stood and popped out the other side. Tenzō's wooden spear impaled his kage bunshin instead. Kakashi slid down the sloping sides of the plateau to clearer air. His opponent realized he'd been tricked almost immediately and followed him.

Although his logical mind knew he had to start fight back in earnest, _now_, his hands refused to move as quickly as they ought. Both of the blades he tossed upward were easily deflected by the wooden shield Tenzō exuded from his arms. As soon as Kakashi's feet struck the ground, he completed his next chain of signs. An underground river churned beneath them, the same river that supplied the springs from which he and Naruto had been refilling their canteens.

A roaring from below preceded the eruption of half a dozen geysers as they cracked through the bedrock. Using an existing water source gave the jutsu more power than Kakashi's own limited chakra supply could ever produce, and the force of it caught Tenzō by surprise. The water snapped the edge of his wooden shield and struck him in the ankle before he could launch himself out of range.

He landed on the valley floor opposite Kakashi and couldn't conceal the stumble. His footprints left an even darker smudge in the water-darkened sand.

"Please, Tenzō, listen to me," Kakashi pleaded. "Danzō betrayed us, collaborated with Orochimaru. The bombing was his attempt to have Itachi assassinated."

"No. It wasn't," Tenzō said. "Uzuki Yūgao was apprehended inside the hospital. She'd laid the explosives during the security sweeps and allowed the assassin inside, the man who'd been posing as a Medical Corps genin. She confessed to spying for Orochimaru in front of half a dozen members of ANBU T & I."

He was completely earnest, and that brought Kakashi up short–Yūgao had done no such thing. "I don't know how, but you are remembering something that never happened!" Kakashi said. "It was thanks to her we got out alive."

"The Hokage warned me you'd say that, too," Tenzō said sadly. "But I heard her confession myself–with my own ears. Kakashi taught me better then to fall for something like this."

"I am telling you the truth!" he said, feeling desperation creeping into his voice. "You pick the bell peppers out of anything you order in a restaurant. You have a scar on the inside of your left knee from the last ANBU mission we undertook together. You're afraid of hornets. You–"

"We know what Pain can do to his prisoners," Tenzō said, cutting him short. "It isn't a stretch to imagine he can extract memories out of the reanimated dead. You expect me to believe Danzō made an alliance with a man dedicated to destroying everything he's trying to protect? A man he's spent the last decade trying to hunt down and kill?" A ring of brambles sprouted around them both, surging up too quickly for Kakashi to break through them with muscle power alone. "Exactly how stupid do you think I am?!"

Tenzō's face was lost as the thicket enveloped him. The thorns became too numerous for Kakashi to avoid. He sliced apart as many as he could reach with electricity-saturated kunai, but even more sprouted from the cut stumps to replace them. They tore at his sleeves and the hem of his coat, shredding the material as he struggled to keep himself free of them. They twined and bit through anything not protected by chain armor or leather–his hands, his legs, his face. The moonlight was closed off as the briar prison closed over his head.

That had been quite clever; he'd never seen Tenzō use the wood release with this level of finesse before. Kakashi was left with little choice now; he would have to dip deep into his lackluster chakra reservoir to free himself from the thorns. He gave two hard jerks to free his hands, gritting his teeth as the points raked across his skin.

The flash of his raikiri was overwhelming in the darkness. The wood scorched black as lightning chewed apart the branches and the whole bramble collapsed in smoke and blowing embers. Momentarily blinded by its intensity, Tenzō flinched from the explosion of light. Kakashi disappeared from the wreckage and flickered behind him. Still blinking away stars, he was a hair too slow to fully dodge the kick Kakashi aimed at his head. With the guidance of his sharingan, he pressed his advantage in the close quarters. The injury to Tenzō ankle cost him speed and stability, and within seconds Kakashi landed a blow to his midsection that left him gasping in the sand.

Before he could fully recover, Kakashi withdrew a loop of wire from his tool pouch and pulled it taut around Tenzō neck. The current he coaxed down its length wasn't enough to cause serious injury, but it would interfere with his ability to move and keep him from extruding any more wooden weapons from his body.

Kakashi himself was beginning to feel lightheaded. He'd gotten a little too good at ignoring his body's signals telling him he'd overdrawn from his store of available energy. He reached into his belt pouch again, but instead of withdrawing a blade to slit his captive's throat, Kakashi counted out three hundred and fifty ryō. They fluttered to the ground in front of the man's nose.

"One-hundred and forty-two ryō, plus interest," Kakashi explained. "What I owe you for skipping out on the bill at that cafe across from the bookstore two months ago. Thought I might as well pay up, since I may never see you again.

"I'm cheap, I'm lazy, and occasionally I'm an inconsiderate ass, but I have lost so many comrades I would rather die than be forced to end your life today. If I had wanted to kill you or shackle you to deliver to Pain, I would have done it thirty seconds ago." He cut off the current paralyzing Tenzō and tossed the wire away. "So what I am going to do now is let you go."

His fingers twitched as his control over them returned. With effort, he turned on his side and raised his head. "Your hands are still bleeding. They… aren't healing."

"Yeah," Kakashi agreed. He flexed his fingers and winced. The dozens of cuts weren't debilitating, but they'd started to sting fiercely now that the adrenaline was ebbing.

"You really _are_ alive," Tenzō whispered to himself. He pushed his mask up to his forehead. "I'm so sorry. I should've… I'm so sorry." With equal parts anguish and confusion, he shook his head and said, "But I heard Yūgao confess myself. I went to your _funeral_!"

"The corpse was faked," Kakashi said, surrendering to the dizziness and using a nearby boulder to ease himself to the ground.

"That I could swallow, but the rest I don't understand," he said. "Yūgao confessed to the bombing to a room full of witnesses. Yamanaka Fū didn't have her under the shintenshin–he was standing right there beside Danzō. And she was Itachi's teammate, wasn't she? Only another Uchiha could have put her under a genjutsu strong enough to force her into a false confession, and none of them trust our new Hokage after what happened before the Rebellion."

"What you saw still didn't happen," Kakashi reiterated.

Tenzō squeezed his eyes closed. "That's impossible. I _remember_ it. Every detail."

Kakashi went silent as his mind worked over every possibility, before finally slinking up to one he was horrified to even consider. "I'm not calling you a liar," he said finally. "We could both be right. There was–is–in existence a genjutsu that can manipulate memory with perfect accuracy… Uchiha Shisui's kotoamatsukami."

"But he's been dead for years," Tenzō objected.

"I know," Kakashi answered. "Itachi had to kill the man himself, to prevent his betrayal of the Uchiha loyalists. ANBU covered up the evidence of the fight, to make it look like an accidental drowning. Itachi was badly injured and Mikoto had to take him to his uncle's home for very discrete emergency medical treatment. I don't know who was given the assignment to falsify the evidence… but whoever it was had free and unsupervised access to Shisui's freshly dead body for several hours." Kakashi clenched his jaw. "Something tells me Shimura Danzō hasn't actually been blind in his right eye for a while now. And it would explain why Sarutobi's old teammates would just go along with all this so readily. I never really _liked_ them, especially Koharu, but they were deeply loyal to the Sandaime and not stupid."

"It's starting to scare me how much sense your theory is making," Tenzō said, miserable. "The idea that he can reach into my head–into anyone's head–and put whatever he wants into our brains is… terrifying. How could we possibly fight a technique like that?"

"As frightening as it can be, the genjutsu has its limits," Kakashi said. "I knew Shisui a little, through Itachi. It was difficult even for him to plant an idea that ran counter to a person's established memories or strongly held feelings. He usually used it to simply influence, instead of rewriting memories outright. Danzō may have stolen his eye, but he isn't Shisui himself, and a transplanted sharingan has serious drawbacks.

That reassured Tenzō a little, and Kakashi continued. "There's already suspicion in Konoha surrounding Yūgao's arrest. Yūhi Kurenai spread the rumor to the team captains of Naruto's old classmates and the other Uchiha that the incident was not what it seemed. Nara Shikaku would be almost impossible to pin down with the kotoamatsukami, too; he's too observant and too intelligent for a false memory to hold up to his scrutiny."

"He's already trying to discredit Shikaku through other routes," Tenzō said. "I couldn't figure out why until now, but there's serious pressure on him to resign as Jōnin Commander for not catching the 'Akatsuki mole' quickly enough. He's not the only Clan Head feeling it, either. Danzō's come down pretty hard on Hyūga Hiashi and the rest of his clan after his eldest daughter went rogue. They're high on the special inquisition list as being suspected of comprise by Akatsuki's memory suppression seal."

"It's a completely fabrication," Kakashi said. "It was Sasori's technique, my partner for this mission. He told us the only person in Konoha he used it on was that Medical Corps genin that tried to kill Itachi. And he's already dead."

"Sasori? The man who killed the Kazekage? You partner. Right. And how in the world did you end up allied with–"

"Long story short, Akatsuki is where a lot of very powerful shinobi with scores to settle have ended up after being betrayed or exiled by their home villages. I didn't believe it at first either, but their goals are actually rather noble–primarily, they want to stop Danzō's war with as few casualties as possible. I have to get back to Naruto, but I need you to do some sniffing around for me while you're recuperating. Is Danzō here? On the front?"

"No," Tenzō said. "Nowhere near. If you were hoping I'd be able to assassinate him, it's not going to happen any time soon. He's filled the ranks of his bodyguards with Root shinobi and he _definitely_ doesn't trust me like the Sandaime did."

"That he ended up with Shisui's eye is still an unproven theory and only a Hyūga could confirm it. If I remember correctly, there's one of them in the Medical Corps that has some kind of connection to Uchiha Mikoto and her family. Find out what that was and see if you can use it. But _tread carefully_."

"I know," Tenzō said. "I wouldn't be able to confront him outright, even with proof. He could wipe the memory and jail me on suspicion of being one of the sleeper agents as soon as he realized I knew his secret."

"That isn't our only problem. The three weeks Itachi spent as unofficial sitting Hokage were dismal. He was halfway out of his mind from losing his parents and Sasuke and his vision all at once."

Tenzō cringed in sympathy. "I'd noticed. There were a lot of powerful people he failed to impress."

"A portion of Konoha would still support Danzō, even if they knew what he'd done. The man is so dangerous because he probably _could_ succeed in making Konoha more wealthy and powerful than it's ever been… if its citizens are willing to ignore the people he's going to have to crush under his boot soles to do it. The toll of a war not on your own doorstep is too easy to ignore."

"How am I supposed to get all this intel to you?" Tenzō asked.

"One of Jiraiya's contacts," Kakashi told him. "You'll want to talk to the owner of Michiko's Bar and Grill in Tonoshō Gai. The woman is a Nara that quit the service but is still very loyal to her clan, and to Jiraiya."

Pakkun peeked out from behind a boulder, now that the fighting was done. "You're gonna want to get moving, Kakashi. All that noise probably got somebody's attention."

Kakashi got to his feet. His vision went black for a second, then returned. "Hey, Tenzō. Swearing vengeance for my sake was, ah… nice of you."

"Oh_ really_?" he said, and let out a bark of bitter laughter. "I wouldn't take that too personally–I would've said the same about any other squad captain served under." He raised an accusatory finger. "You know, all you did was bully me until the day you resigned from ANBU. No matter how hard I tried it was never good enough."

"Next to me and Itachi, you were the best, and I figured it was my job to see you stayed that way. That's why I never got off your ass." He smiled a little. "It worked, didn't it? You actually topped my lifetime ANBU mission performance record."

"I did," he agreed smugly. His face fell. "This 'secretly spying for Akatsuki' thing is going to tank my mission completion ratios, isn't it?"

"I sure as hell hope so, for our sake," Kakashi said. "Itachi _is_ going to take back Konoha. I don't know how, and I don't know when, but I am sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is going to need your help to do it."

-ooo-

Missing a quarter of his head didn't disturb Sasori in the slightest. Satisfied that they were not being pursued, they stopped to wait for Kakashi on the shore of a salt lake. The puppeteer had set a ring of his creations around Naruto to stand guard, more to keep him from dashing back to help Kakashi than to protect him from any attack. When Naruto realized there was no way he was going to outwit the dour man, he folded himself up on a boulder near the water to pout.

The salt encrusting the shore shimmered in the starlight. Intrigued, he reached out to pluck one of the crystal masses from the ground.

"Don't touch that," Sasori cautioned. "There's more than table salt dissolved in it; it will burn your skin."

"Why do you care?" Naruto grumbled, withdrawing his hand and shoving it into the crease of his elbow.

"I told you before," he said. "I do not intend to let you come to any harm for the very simple reason that _my_ survival depends on it. Pain-sama was excruciatingly clear on that point." He selected a small scroll from inside his sleeve and unfurled it on the white expanse. A perfect duplicate of the mangled puppet body he wore appeared, supine, on the ground. He bent over it for a moment, and the old body collapsed just before the new one sat up. He began methodically salvaging whatever he deemed useful from the old mannequin and returning the parts to his storage scrolls.

"Eeeesh," Naruto said, looking ill. "Creepytown, population: you. How many spares you got?"

"Several," Sasori said, and he returned to breaking down the damaged puppet.

As much as he hated Sasori, he hated this silence more. "Why would you do something like that? Didn't it… hurt?"

"Indescribably," he answered, and refused to elaborate further.

"But _why_?" Naruto pressed, frustrated by the terse responses.

"Because, in this body, I could live forever. I will never age. I will never become ill. I will never even feel pain."

It was cold, just before the dawn. Naruto rubbed his arms through the thin coat. It was startling how the strongest shinobi couldn't seem to understand the simplest truths. "Never feel pain?" he muttered. "It doesn't matter what your body's made of, or how well you can fight. That isn't how it works."

"I'll be sure to let you know the moment I begin valuing _your_ opinion," Sasori said.

Naruto sighed. "After what you did to my family and my friends, it was impossible not to hate you."

"And you plan to take vengeance on me when this is over?" Sasori asked dismissively. "You're years away from being able to challenge me. I would prefer you kept your ridiculous daydreams to yourself."

"No, I'm not looking for vengeance… but not because I'm afraid of you," Naruto said. He looked back to the shores of the salt lake. "You don't sleep so you don't dream. You can't eat your favorite food ever again. You can't get all banged up and out of breath after a good spar. You can't jump into a hot bath after a snowy day. You can't kiss girls. You can't ever get married and have a kid and hold them and say: 'I'm going to teach this amazing little person so many things someday'."

He licked his dry lips. "Maybe I am just a stupid brat, but that doesn't sound like living to me. That sounds like a hell that never, ever ends–I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. What kind of revenge could I possibly take? I don't think there's anything I could do to you that's worse than what you've already done to _yourself_."

Sasori's eyes fell, and he finally said, almost petulantly, "I'm an artist. I can still create. That is all that matters to me."

"Whatever you say," Naruto said. "Ninety-nine percent of me wants you to fall in a hole and stay there 'til you start growing moss. The last one percent feels really, really sorry for you."


	30. Chapter 30

I went on hiatus for... A DAY. Please don't ask me how I managed to finish this chapter on time because I don't even know. -_- Probably looking at three weeks before the next one.

Multiple people have inquired about Sasuke, and no, I'm sorry to say he isn't getting another chapter of his own. He's spent the last few weeks meditating on the nature of senjutsu and playing board games with Jūgo–it's not really thrilling reading. If your tastes run in this direction, you may also be interested to know there was a fair amount of time spent hanging out in the jungle with the snakes and eating mangoes while mostly naked.

For those curious about the fates of miscellaneous canonical Akatsuki members, I will say that Kisame, Kakuzu, Hidan, and Deidara all have roles in Part II. Zetsu does not. He's less of a character than a walking, talking plot device, and without Tobito around there's no reason for him to be here. You can imagine him off somewhere photosynthesizing and eating small woodland animals, if you like.

**ETA: reposted with small but significant revisions because parts were rightly called out as being OOC.  
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><p><strong>Continuity Disclaimer<strong>: Most of the Daybreak universe was outlined/written before the Shinobi World War arc in the manga, which I sort of stopped reading anyway. For simplicity's sake pretend everything after chapter 500-some never happened while you are reading this. I tried to make this fic canon-compliant to a point, but when the goalposts keep moving fanfic authors just have to throw up their hands and scream 'I GIVE UP' in order to get anything done. Thank you.

**Beta Credits**: HakorTheEgyptianPharoah

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 30 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Before Naruto could succumb to panic over Kakashi's fate, a familiar whuffling noise from the crumbling rock formations propelled him to his feet. Pakkun's faint pug wheeze preceded the appearance of the dog himself as he came trotting around the bend. Kakashi was following his canine partner, supporting himself against the walls with one hand. Sasori looked faintly disappointed he had returned with nothing more than a shredded uniform, but for once kept his vindictive comments to himself.<p>

Naruto dashed forward to get a better look at the bloody tatters of Kakashi's coat. "How bad are you hurt?"

"Cuts and scratches. Nothing worse," Kakashi answered. "That was sloppy, Naruto. I could have been Tenzō under a transformation. Verify identify first, evaluate an injured teammate second."

"Sorry." Naruto chewed on his lip. "Do I want to know what happened to him? I kind of liked that guy."

Kakashi's visible eye creased in a smile. He put his back to the nearest rock slab and slide down the face. "He should be fine, once one of the other scouting teams gets him back to the medics." He tilted back his head to address Sasori. "And Akatsuki is going to have at least one new informant in Konoha, by the way. One I'd trust with my life."

"What wonderful news," Sasori said dryly. "But we have lingered in this area far too long already. If you are not seriously injured we have to keep moving."

"You're going to have to give me a minute," Kakashi said. "Little dizzy."

"Are you _sure_ you're not hurt?" Naruto asked, crouching next to him.

Pakkun sat back on his haunches and shook his head. "When Kakashi says he's 'a little dizzy' he means there's a fifty-fifty chance he's about to black out from chakra-loss shock," the dog explained. "His chakra reservoir barely qualifies as average. He's made a career out of cutting these things stupidly close, but it's nothing some food and sleep won't fix."

"We don't have time for this," Sasori said under his breath. He unzipped his coat and extracted the second scroll from the holster on his back, unspooling it with a few chakra threads to scan for one particular puppet. When the symbol flashed past his eyes, he summoned his creation, a beetle whose wooden carapace split open to reveal a platform large enough to accommodate a sitting man. "I can have it carry you."

"That's remarkably considerate of you," Kakashi said, making the effort to lift his heavy lids.

"I told you before–I don't like waiting," Sasori snapped. "It's for my convenience, not yours."

Naruto helped steer the unsteady Kakashi to the squat puppet, and he settled himself on its back. Complaining that the traces of alkaline salt mixed in the sand were burning his paws, Pakkun hopped up and into Kakashi's lap as they readied themselves to move out again. He kept his ears pricked for danger as they followed Sasori deeper into the maze, ostensibly all business, but paused from his duties every so often to lick at Kakashi's battered hands when no one was looking.

As they neared the mountain peak, the work of human stonemasons could be seen along with the organic carvings of the water and the wind. The trail beneath their feet was paved with neat squares, although the edges of each stone were badly worn and the gaps filled with sand and debris. The fortress was built in five levels, each one unevenly tracing the natural contours of the mountain. Fire glowed from within the slits on the tiers and a slender watchtower capped the summit.

The beetle puppet had been obediently clicking along on its six wooden legs for an hour or so when Sasori halted its progress. He flicked his right hand out in front of him, and there was a yelp from overhead as a young man in a Suna hitai-ate tumbled into the dirt, yanked from his hiding place by one of Sasori's chakra threads. The cable where Sasori's viscera should have been unspooled in fraction of a second, and before the young man could recover the breath that had been knocked from his lungs, the point was poised to pierce the artery in his neck.

"Gaaah, Sasori, would you stop swinging that thing around and let him explain who he is before you start with the stabbing?" Naruto shouted.

The curved tip with drew a fraction. "You are far too trusting," Sasori said.

Still coughing sporadically and eyeing the oily blade, the scout gulped and said, "H-hinata-san just radioed the scouts and asked me to s-show you inside the fort. I'm no collaborator."

"She's alive?!" Naruto exclaimed.

"And very anxious to see you, Naruto-san… _very_ anxious," he said. "When she spotted you, somebody had to find her a paper bag to breathe into before she passed out. And Gaara-sama has just made it inside the fort as well, which she thought you would want to know. He was injured but she said it wasn't serious."

"He's for real," Naruto said, relaxing. "That's Hinata to a 'T'. Put that thing away already."

Sasori released the boy, who had heroically refrained from wetting himself during the whole exchange, and there was a whirring from inside Sasori's robes as the mechanism re-wound the cable in his hollow torso. They followed their new ally into a narrow path branching from the main road, an impenetrable labyrinth like the tunnels of an oversized anthill. At a chip in the wall just like any other, their guide crouched to smear two vertical lines of his blood on the stone. A pulsating seal appeared beneath it and the stain disappeared. The outline of a formerly invisible trapdoor came into being as the crust of rock concealing it was split in two and parted along the seam.

The scout pulled a small lantern from the shelf just inside the door and lit it. "Don't touch the walls once we pass the tunnel fork. You'll regret it," he said. "There are a dozen hidden entrances and all of them are trapped differently."

Grumbling, Sasori was forced to dismiss the beetle, which was too wide to fit down the black, cramped footpath. When he didn't move to assist Kakashi in keeping his feet, the other young Suna shinobi shrugged and offered his own shoulder. They hiked uphill for a few more minutes, and the scout opened a second door into a small courtyard. The fountain in the center of the pentagon laughed softly, fed by some mechanism for pumping up the water from the underground river that flowed beneath the rocks.

The old stronghold was packed with people… and Naruto was shocked at how few of them were wearing hitai-ate. There were dozens of children and elderly in this courtyard alone, sleeping bundled up against the walls. Their clothing was faded and patched, their faces bronzed by years under the sun. Their belongings were heaped about them, lashed into bundles with old baskets and twine. The precarious towers probably represented the sum of their worldly possessions.

They had come here fleeing war and it had found them anyway. It was just like Nagato had said. It didn't matter which hidden village eventually claimed victory–people like this would always lose. Naruto's teeth ground against each other. This had to stop someday. It _had _to.

"Infirmary's this way," their guide offered to Kakashi. "We don't have many medical ninja, but Chiyo-baasama is heading them up. She knows what she's doing."

Sasori tensed at the name, breathing something venomous but only barely audible. Kakashi' stagger was even more pronounced now, and Naruto lent him his shoulder as well for the final few meters of their journey. Sasori disappeared into the warrens of the fort. Naruto ignored him, too troubled by the reality of what they were facing to spare the puppeteer much thought.

The 'infirmary' was a handful of doctors, some barely-trained nurses, and a few rooms divided by dusty curtains into a crude surgery and a morgue. The wounded were lined up in rows on the ground. Not all of them even had blankets. A mound of bloody rags in the corner testified to the frantic work that must have recently taken place within the last day.

One of the staff took up the task of supporting Kakashi once they were inside the curtains, calling for bandages and antiseptic. Amidst the drab scene, Gaara's red hair shone in the warm torchlight. He was sitting in the far corner of the hall amidst some empty packing crates. His left pant leg was rolled up to the knee and Temari had just finished removing a soiled bandage from his ankle. He stood to test the newly healed limb and winced a little as he put weight on it.

Kankurō was sitting cross-legged on one of the boxes, with his sister's tessen propped open in front of him. The paper had been torn deep into one of the violet circles, and he was stitching together the rent by guiding a silk thread with two sharp, delicate strands of his chakra. He looked up from his work and said, "Are you sure you should be walking on–"

"Gaara…?" Naruto breathed. "You're really okay!" He dashed across the rocky floor and threw his arms around the other boy, who immediately went stiff like a panicking deer. "That was a… crunchy hug," Naruto added, pulling away.

"Sand armor," Gaara explained, his arms awkwardly pressed against his sides. "Multiple people have started doing that to me. For the first time. Ever." He blinked at Naruto. "In my life."

"What happened to your leg?" Naruto asked.

"Exploding tag. The sand stopped most of it." He grimaced and bent to rub at the reddened skin. "It hurt before. Now it's itchy. Not sure which is worse. Temari, can you hand me my sandal?"

Temari batted aside some of the used bandages and returned it to him, singed in places but still wearable. She balled up the strips of cloth and tossed them into the corner that had been reserved for refuse. "If you were wondering _why_ my baby brother stepped on an exploding tag, you ought to know it was your fault."

"_My_ fault?" Naruto repeated. "We've been hundreds of kilometers away from each other for weeks and weeks."

"It's not entirely his fault," Kankurō corrected. "I also blame Creepy Eyes Girl."

"Stop calling Hinata names," Gaara scolded. "You're being a bully."

"Agreed; knock it off," Temari said, bending to flick over one of the catlike ears protruding from Kankurō's hood.

He reached up to straighten the point with one hand and a sour look.

"We never would have lasted this long without a byakugan user on our side," Temari said. Her glare fell into a grin when she looked back at Gaara, her face alighting with pride. "Naruto, I don't know what you told him during the Chūnin Exams, but it stuck. He didn't notice that exploding tag because he was busy single-handedly protecting one of the refugee lines, outnumbered twenty to one against a Konoha ambush party. Every one of the civilians got inside the walls safely, without even a scratch."

"One of them tried to kiss me on the cheek afterward," Gaara said. "I don't think she enjoyed the experience very much–I am not sure what she was expecting, but I think she found it… gritty."

There was a crash from inside the curtains, and voice that was unmistakably Hinata yelped, "No, no, no, Hatake _Kakashi, _Chiyo-baasama. _Kakashi_, not Sakumo. P-please don't stick that scalpel in his–"

Naruto headed for the commotion and stuck his head past the grubby cloth. Hinata had changed into the native garb of a beige tunic and loose pants, with a deep violet scarf thrown over shoulders and head. The tunic was flecked with blood and other dried fluids–even untrained in the healing arts, a Hyūga could still be an invaluable resource in a field hospital. The girl had interposed herself between Kakashi, who was now without his coat and sprawled on the floor, and a tiny, furious old woman. The scalpel was still clenched her hand and not, thankfully, embedded anywhere in Kakashi's person.

"Sakumo was my father," Kakashi panted, rubbing the back of his head. "He died almost twenty years ago. All I wanted was to lie down before I pass out."

She placed the scalpel down on a nearby tray and linked her hands in front of her sternum, hidden inside her wide sleeves. "How was I supposed to know?" she said with a dignified sniff. "I'm old and it's dark. I couldn't see you weren't sixty with only one eye to go on. And look at all that gray–it's terribly confusing," she added, as if Kakashi's completely natural hair color had been put on this earth simply to annoy her.

One of the nurses tactfully stepped in to resume cleaning the wounds Tenzō's thorns had torn in Kakashi's skin, and Chiyo sniffed again and shuffled back to what she'd been doing.

The near-disaster averted, Hinata turned to blink at Naruto with her wide white eyes, drinking in every detail of his face. Her voice rough with relief, she finally said, "W-we got news you were d-dead… that they might've brought you back as one of those horrible living corpses. I knew you weren't, though, as soon as I saw you in the labyrinth."

"Nope. Definitely not dead. I'll tell you how Sakura and I ended up with Akatsuki if you're done here," he said gently, leading her by the hand to a deserted corner of the infirmary. "And you do get hug privileges, Hinata. I was really worried about you."

"M-me?" she stuttered, inching backwards.

"Of course you!" he said, enveloping her in an enthusiastic, if graceless, embrace. "Thank you so much for staying with Gaara. You're a good friend. I know you had to give up a lot, trying to protect him."

Hinata pinched her lips and looked away, mourning for the lost comforts of home. "He saved my life," she whispered. "Baki-san knew something was wrong as soon as the first teams from Konoha came to help with the rebuilding. When they asked me to leave with them…" She sighed. "I couldn't say no. Gaara-kun has been hurt so much for what he was, for failing his father and his village, and… everyone was so frightened of him, even though he'd made up his mind to change."

"Except you," Naruto said.

She bobbed her head. "You were the one who showed me that, Naruto-kun."

-ooo-

After they had snatched a few hours of sleep, Gaara nudged Naruto and his siblings awake just as the creamy dawn light and the sharp scent of brewing coffee began to drift between the columns. Before breakfast, Naruto ducked into the infirmary for a moment to check on Kakashi. He was still so deeply asleep Naruto's footsteps didn't rouse him. However, Pakkun did stir from where he was dozing near Kakashi's shoulder to reassure Naruto he'd back on his feet within the day.

A meeting was gathering in the great halls on the fourth level, and only about a third of the people striding towards it were shinobi. The others were dressed in the long coats of herding tribes, in police sashes, in the caps and short swords of the local militia. This war was for the survival of Wind Country itself, and the normal conventions of combat no longer applied. No blade or bow could be turned away.

Sasori, who, like Gaara, had no need for sleep, had spent the night relaying all the intelligence he had gathered to Baki and the other senior members of Suna's resistance. He was still speaking quietly to his former schoolmate with a grave look on his face when his team and Naruto entered the high-ceilinged hall.

As Temari caught sight of the puppeteer, her body went taut and trembling like a drawn bowstring.

Sasori felt her fury seeping across the room. He broke off his conversation and all of his attention narrowed onto Temari. It was subtle and fleeting, but for moment he looked haunted. "You are Karura's daughter," he said softly.

"You'd dare show your face here? You killed our Kazekage!" she cried. Her fists tightened until she was about to burst with seething grief. "You killed my _father_!"

The look of faint sorrow disappeared from Sasori's face. "A stab in the back was all that Kohan deserved."

Before she could draw a weapon and attack him then and there, Temari recoiled from a screen of sand that rose before her face. More tendrils grasped her wrists. Her expression of horror surged and then ebbed as she realized its grip was very gentle, enough only to restrain her, not even enough to bruise.

"Sit down, Temari," Gaara ordered, his hand raised to direct the cloud of particles that were still pouring from the gourd on his back.

"Come on," Kankurō added. "You're acting like me. It's not a good look on you."

With a few deep inhalations she mastered her temper, and elected to sit beside a teenage kunoichi on the far side of the room, away from her brothers. The young woman began whispering to her, one hand resting sympathetically on her thigh, as the normal volume of conversation in the room resumed.

Sasori looked to Kankurō, curious. "I'd heard you were the hotheaded one. You seem much less upset about this situation than one might expect."

"Me and my dad never got along. It was never as bad as it was between him and Gaara, but he…" Kankurō went quiet.

"Didn't approve of you playing with dolls?" Sasori finished for him, lifting an eyebrow.

Kankurō looked shocked. "How did you know that?"

"We _were_ teammates. A long, long time ago. I don't think he ever got over the fact I was the stronger shinobi. You defied his wishes and chose to pursue the art anyway?"

"Yeah, I did," Kankurō said. "What do you care?"

His appraisal of Kankurō continued, edging upward the faintest bit. "You could call it professional curiosity. The meeting won't begin until all the elders arrive. Your puppets–let me see them."

Reticently, Kankurō slipped the two scrolls out of their holsters on his hips and drew forth the contents. In addition to the Crow he'd used during the exams, he had also gained another with a similar build and two red horned emerging from its head.

Sasori lifted one of the Crow's multiple arms to inspect the workmanship. "The design of the limbs has been modified from my specifications," he said. "And the body is of a different wood."

"The rubber strips reduce dust contamination in the joints," Kankurō explained. "The body got smashed during the survival stage of the Chūnin Exams, so I tried a few things rebuilding it. It's teak wood, from the plantations in south Fire Country. It's a lot harder and more durable than anything local."

Sasori knelt down to draw his finger along the seam on the puppet's belly, checking the clean, tight join between the wooden staves. "You completed the machining yourself? Teak can be difficult to work… rough on tools and prone to splitting if the source isn't properly aged."

"It performs beautifully when you get the moisture content down just right–twelve percent is about the sweet spot. I was experimenting with a kiln to–" he broke off when he realized Temari was staring at him, her jaw hanging. "Which is really none of your business. Are you done? Did you see what you wanted to see?"

"Yes," Sasori said thoughtfully. "I believe I have."

The final, critical members of the resistance arrived shortly after, as Sasori took his seat again. Chiyo and her brother Ebizo found their places at the head of the room, their backs to the light gushing through the windows. Chiyo stared openly at Sasori for several moments, her face full of confusion, then dropped her eyes, unable to meet his again.

Baki pushed himself to his feet and the anxious twitter of conversation abated as he prepared to speak. "Regretfully, Orochimaru did not share the secret of dispelling Edo Tensei before he turned on his partner and Akatsuki, and deserted from the organization. A few of you have seen the living corpses yourselves; for those that have not, the rumors you have heard of their power are not greatly exaggerated. The only reason we've lasted this long against them is because Shimura Danzō has chosen to sacrifice quantity for range. Although his control over them is imperfect, their supplies of chakra are limitless, and their wounds heal in a matter of seconds. Even being blown apart won't keep them down for long. They're all but unstoppable."

"You can't kill 'em, but they're not invincible," Ebizo corrected. "I caught one and sealed him up, after all. He's still stuffed in the cellars."

"How?" Naruto asked.

The bandages wound around his wrists uncurled, shimmering faintly with chakra. "Cloth binding. Specialty of mine. Not very flashy as fighting styles go, but useful, in its way. If you catch the living corpses just as they're reforming, they're paralyzed, and so far the seal's held."

"Well... how many people you got who can use it?" Naruto asked.

Only seven hands more hands went up, and of those seven only one had a squad captain's flak jacket. She was wearing the customary turban and white veil draped behind her head, and both cheeks were tattooed with matching violet fangs. "Maki, tokubetsu jōnin. Aside from Ebizo-jiisama, I'm probably the only one here strong enough to bind one of those things. And I'm not even sure one of my seals would be able to hold."

"From the intelligence reports Sasori-san has intercepted, it looks like there are two huge forces moving into this area from both the south and east," Baki said. "Two thousand soldiers at the very least. They're better armed and better supplied than we are. When the three from Akatsuki arrived late last night, the time to flee had already come and gone. The noncombatants would be too slow to outrun Konoha, having to transport small children and invalids. We're pinned here."

Frightened whispers rippled through the meeting, confirming what many of the people had already suspected.

"We have just over two hundred trained shinobi left in fighting shape," Baki said. "Counting the archers from the hill shepherds and the members of the local militia and police forces, we have three hundred fighters at most. Only a handful of them have ever seen war before."

"All right… well.. what's your battle plan for the siege?" Naruto asked, oblivious to the pale cast of defeat on the faces of those around him.

It was the wrong question. Baki looked into the dust. "Surrender," he said. He took a deep breath. "I would gladly give my life for my country… but I will not ask that same sacrifice of children. A quarter of our shinobi are under the age of sixteen and this fortress is packed with civilians. Given our numbers, this fight can't be won. All we can hope for is that your arrival has prevented the bijū within Gaara from falling into enemy hands. Temari, Kankurō, as the children of the Yondaime Kazekage you are symbols of Sunagakure's independence, and, even if you turned yourself in, Konoha would never let you live. I would like you to go to Amegakure with Gaara. The rest of us will have to trust to Konoha's mercy."

Temari had gotten progressively more tight-lipped as Baki spoke. She rose from the stone seat on which she was perched. "I'm sixteen and I'm not a child–I don't need you to protect me anymore, Sensei. Konoha knows full well you led this resistance. I know the price honor demands when a general surrenders, and I am not abandoning my teacher to his death!"

"What is there for us in Amegakure? I'm not running either!" Kankurō cried, rising to join her. "Danzō broke the alliance between our countries. His shinobi came promising to help us rebuild and then turned us into second-class citizens in our own village! He'll pay for that, I swear he will!"

Other voices began to join his, aflame with the same anger at the betrayal. When the arguments had reached a crescendo, Gaara stood and came before Naruto. Even with the threat of Shukaku's bloodlust restrained, he had a commanding presence for someone so young. The squabbling abruptly quieted. "You came here to save me, Naruto," he said. "And I thank you for that, but I cannot go with you. My sand has always shielded me, and now I see that it could shield us all. I am Gaara of the Desert. I too will stay."

Baki smiled wanly at his students' fervor. "Gaara, even with your help we'd need an army to make this anything less than a massacre. There are no reinforcements left to call on. In the face of the summoned corpses, most of our comrades have already given up."

"You have one," Chiyo said, speaking up for the first time. "Sasori, I've heard the stories… The hundred puppets…"

"My orders were to extract Gaara and return to Ame," Sasori said coldly. "This is not my fight, and if you all wish to toss your lives foolishly away, that is your own business. I'll have no part of it."

"I'm not leaving with you," Gaara repeated.

"This is your _home_!" Naruto burst out. "How could you not care?!"

"It isn't," Sasori said. "Not any more. I will drug you both and carry you back to Ame, if you force me to. I don't know what sort of liberties you were given in your village, Naruto, but Pain-sama is not a man who tolerates disobedience."

"If he wants Gaara's help that badly for this world peace deal, he can spare a few of his own people to help Suna," Naruto said to him. "Fair is fair."

"It's two and a half days of travel by foot between here and Ame, so even if he did agree, no one could get here from Storm Country fast enough to make a difference. The longer we wait, the greater the chance we'll be trapped here as well. Use your dense head for once."

"I _am _using my head!" Naruto countered. "We can't roll over and let Danzō win this one! What are the daimyo in all the other countries going to do unless we can prove Edo Tensei can be beaten? They're going to fold like damp cardboard, that's what they're going to do. If people don't have any hope they can win, there's no point in fighting anymore. I might as well throw myself off the watchtower right now. I'm going to talk to Pain." He stamped to archway marking the end of the hall. "Meeting is over. Gaara, if he tries to run off with you, rip his head off. Might slow him down a little."

-ooo-

Naruto ducked into the first unoccupied room he saw, a narrow space against the exterior of the fort. It was empty save for some terra cotta oil vessels and scraps of rag. He knelt to scrub a small patch of the floor clean of the ever-present dust. Still crouching over the stone tiles, he withdrew a kunai and used it to open the palm of his left hand. He dipped a finger in the pooling blood and scrawled out the character for 'zero'.

The orange Akatsuki ring on his right thumb was more than symbolic; it was also the link that connected him to the communication hub in Amegakure. It soon grew warm, as, somewhere in the islands of Whirlpool, Nagato prepared to answer his request for a meeting. Naruto stood and stepped back as the character he'd drawn on the storeroom floor glowed green, and a transparent projection of Nagato's body surged out of the seal. He was sitting on a boulder crusted with barnacle skeletons, resting both hands on the hook of his cane.

"What is it, Naruto?" he asked. Nagato's voice was tinny, distorted by the technique and great distance that separated them.

"We need to talk about Gaara, but first I'm dying to know if you and Jiraiya-sensei found anything."

"Jiraiya did locate the vaults, yes, and the key you showed me did open them," Nagato said, not sounding pleased. "The archipelago on which Uzushiogakure was built is riddled with caves. One of them had been reinforced and sealed to serve as their library, to protect their most precious secrets from the fires of war. In that respect, they succeeded–from what we could piece together, Kiri's forces never breached it."

"But something else did?" Naruto asked in dread.

He nodded, saddened. "There must have been an earthquake some years back. It was enough to crack the seaward wall and let the water trickle into the chambers come the spring tides. Even the Uzumaki were no match for that kind of power."

Naruto's heart felt like it sunk into his stomach. "So it's all gone?" he whispered.

"No, not all of it. The books and scrolls loose on the shelves were all rotted away, but we also found this." He raised one hand and a metal chest came sailing into broadcasting range. It was about half a meter on all sides, decorated with interlocking waves, eddies, and broad-winged sea birds. He used his command of gravity to settle the massively heavy box before his feet. "It's solid gold–the seawater couldn't corrode it–and the seal on the lid was airtight. Jiraiya is still going through what we found inside, but as far as we can tell it includes the formula Uzumaki Mito created to bind the Kyūbi, as well as several other scrolls containing formulae for incredibly strong bindings and barriers. You can return with Gaara at once. Once Jiraiya succeeds in modifying his seal, he will no longer pose a threat to himself or to the people of Ame."

"Right, um… that's why I wanted to talking to you," Naruto admitted. "I can't do that."

"What do you mean?" Nagato asked, tensing his fingers on the handle of his cane. "Has Konoha captured him already? Was he injured?"

"No, no, he's fine, but if he leaves now, the Sunagakure resistance is finished. They're trapped in an old fortress in the northwest corner of Wind Country. According to what Sasori got out of his contact at the layover aviary, there are two thousand Konoha troops coming at us. He's not leaving." Naruto swallowed. "And I'm not either."

Nagato was taken aback. "I am willing to make certain allowances for you as my clansman, but you still pledged loyalty to me. You will take Gaara and retreat at once, before you yourself are captured by Konoha. That was not a request. That was an order."

"I will head back… once I know everyone can get out and regroup," Naruto said. "Suna needs your help. Just a few people–whoever you can spare–and then Gaara'd come with me."

"Amegakure is not large, Naruto, and it is extremely vulnerable as long as I am abroad. Although we are nearly finished here, it will still take days to fly back to the city on my summons. If Konoha chooses to strike at us now, Mei and Konan are going to need every fighter they have at their disposal to defend Ame. There's no one _to_ spare."

"Let Itachi come–he should be over the cough by now," Naruto pleaded. "Fū, maybe, I think she'd say yes, and a few healers. Sakura would want to come too. That's all we would need."

"No."

Naruto kicked at a dusty rag. "You're not doing a very good job of keeping up your own oath. I don't remember swearing to pursue unity for all people only when it's convenient for the guy in charge. The Suna resistance is fighting for the exact same things you and Yahiko and Konan did. They're trying to protect people who are too weak to fight for themselves. And we need to show the other hidden villages they can stand up to Konoha and _win_. Edo Tensei is scaring people to death. If it goes on like this for much longer they're gonna to give up without a fight."

"I sympathize with them–I truly do–but I would be risking my own people to aid the Suna resistance and I cannot do that," Nagato said.

"They're really going to appreciate that sympathy _once they're dead_," Naruto said sourly. "All I'm hearing is a lot of 'blah, blah, blah' about justice and freedom and brotherhood from you, but so far I haven't seen you put your money where your mouth is. Like that mission where I met Mei? Taking a contract from a drug smuggler was a dick move. How many more missions like that have you sent Akatsuki on?"

That stung him, but Nagato didn't yield. "A hidden village can't be fed, clothed, and armed with ideals alone," he said. "Outfitting shinobi takes money. I don't have the luxury of sending my soldiers out only on missions that meet your standards of moral acceptability. They and their families would starve. What I am trying to achieve is greater than any individual's loss or suffering, and I cannot–"

"The end justifies the means garbage again, huh? There's an old raisin in a pointy red hat who just eats up that stuff."

"Shimura Danzō and I are _nothing_ alike," Nagato said, his voice clipped.

"Could've fooled me."

He exhaled to dispel the annoyance Naruto's words had stirred up. "Itachi warned me about how stubborn you could be. Even that didn't do your bullheadedness justice. I am going to warn you that I do not take kindly to being disobeyed, not in matters of this magnitude."

He broke off and twisted his head at the buzz of another voice. Naruto recognized it as Jiraiya's even through the audio interference, but couldn't make out individual words.

"I know someone willing to tell me these things is exactly what I asked for," Nagato said. He opened his mouth to speak again but Jiraiya beat him to it, launching into an even louder tirade that made his student wince. "No, of course it doesn't surprise me at all you agree with him," he sighed finally, chastised. Another pause, and Nagato frowned. "Fine, but I could do without the 'I-told-you-so'. You aren't a very gracious winner, Sensei."

When he turned back to Naruto, the sharp lines of his face had softened. "You told me before you embarked on this mission that you wished to lead a hidden village someday. If you cannot make these kinds of choices–between the bad and the worse–you will become paralyzed by inaction and you will fail the people that depend upon you. This is the burden every leader has to carry."

Naruto let his shoulders drop, examining Nagato's words from every angle. He traced his memories back to the times he'd shared with the Sandaime Hokage… and more tellingly, those he hadn't. The creased and kindly smiles he remembered from his childhood hadn't been all there was to a man who'd led Konoha for more than forty years. Sarutobi Hiruzen had made these kinds of choices, too, and chose exactly as Nagato had–to do whatever was required, no matter how unsavory, to ensure his village lived on.

"Maybe you're right. I know the Old Man did. Itachi does." He straightened his spine. "And someday I will. But this time, you're not making the right choice, I just know it. What good is saving Amegakure if all the countries around you wither up and die? We need to give the other nations hope that Danzō's army and his living corpses can be beaten. We have the chance to do that right here, and if we don't take it, I don't think we're gonna get another.

"Baki and his solders are friends you wanna keep. If you want an ally with honor, who cares about his people more than he does about himself, he's got it in spades. One of the retired jōnin here even managed to seal up one of those zombies with his cloth binding jutsu. The only people that know it live here in Suna. Please, Nagato. Help them."

Indecision rippled across his featured, rebounded, and settled into resignation. "All right–you've convinced me. Fū holds the contract with the Dragonfly clan. They can carry a very small force to you in a fraction of the time it would take to travel by foot. Itachi was cleared for duty by Tsunade just a few days. If anyone could find a way to force back two thousand Konoha troops, he would be the one to do it. You'll have to hold out until then."

-ooo-

Naruto found Sasori loitering in a passage branching from the meeting hall, avoiding the uneasy clumps of people dotted around the entrance. "We're staying," he said. "Call up the boss and ask him yourself if you don't believe me."

He glanced at Naruto from underneath his heavily lidded eyes. "Why do you care so much about what happens to these people? They're not even of your village and you owe them nothing at all."

"Because they're _people…_ and what's happening to them isn't fair."

"Life is rarely fair," Sasori shot back.

Naruto backed up against one of the scarred pillars supporting the upper floors and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, by now I figured out that much. But that doesn't mean selfish ass-wipes with more power than sense get a free pass to make it worse." His voice dipped lower, so it wouldn't carry beyond their corner of corridor. "So Kakashi's dad killed your parents in the war. Until I was six, I didn't haveparents, and then _you_ helped Orochimaru kill the ones that adopted me. You think you're the only one that's ever been hurt like that? I'm still fighting for what matters–so is Nagato, Kakashi, Temari, Kankurō… and what's left of your family. They're still fighting."

"I don't have a family," he hissed, with intense heat.

Naruto considered Gaara's face in his mind's eye: his slight build, his red hair. "I'm an idiot and even I could see it, when you were standing in the same room with him." He looked up at Sasori. "You really are Gaara's father, aren't you? You wanted revenge on the Yondaime Kazekage for taking away someone you loved."

Sasori was stunned into silence, as if that was a part of his life he would much rather have forgotten. "What exactly were you and Tahara discussing while we were stopped at the aviary?"

"Stuff," Naruto said sullenly.

"What is it that you want me to say?" Sasori asked. "Yes, I did love Karura. She was the first person to make me feel alive again, after my parents were killed. She never lost her spirit in the face of the abuse she suffered at the hands of men who should have loved and protected her. Even at the bitter end, she was betrayed. We both were.

"Do you know who killed her? Do know who snuffed out her life to seal the Ichibi into Gaara?" The atmosphere went very cold, with such piercing killing intent it made Naruto shiver. "It was Chiyo… on the orders of a man who should have been my friend and my comrade. Even the birth of that baby, with his red hair instead of blond, was just another betrayal. Gaara was an accident and the thing that sealed his mother's fate. The meaning of his name–the only thing she lived to give him–was 'a self-loving carnage'. All she hoped for was that that monster she'd birthed would someday avenge her. She felt nothing for him and neither do I. If he had died in the Sunagakure arena the day I tore his seal open, it wouldn't have made any difference to me."

Naruto was so overcome with disgust he couldn't speak. He had known only love from his parents–all four of them–and couldn't even comprehend such hatred and bitterness toward one's own child. "You keep calling me a stupid brat, but you're the one who has to grow up," he said. "What happened to his mother isn't Gaara's fault. Of all the things you could possibly blame somebody for, being born is never one of them. And he's not a _thing_. He's someone who's been hurt by the same person that's hurt you. The Yondaime Kazekage's tried to kill him half a dozen times. I stopped the last assassination attempt myself."

"I will guard him in this next battle only because Pain-sama ordered it. Gaara was never loved, and nothing you can say will change that fact."

"Yes he was," Naruto said, with utter conviction, "and is, right now. I don't think what's been protecting him so carefully, for all this time, could possibly be a demon."


	31. Chapter 31

I spent a fair portion of last month napping and sniffling pathetically instead of writing, because viruses, so I took the opportunity to marathon Ao no Exorcist. Formulaic yet charming shōnen anime is like crack to me. I mean… Rin's little pointy ears! The leeettle eeears! _How could I say no to those_?!

…And Amaimon. You are the best too.

I had to revise this chapter a kersquillion times because it kept turning out BORING. Ugh. :[ It may still be boring. I can't even tell any more… I think I'm burning out on this thing. But there is _one more chapter_ and then it's over. Over! HOLY SHIZZZ!

**Beta Credits**: HakorTheEgyptianPharoah

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><p><strong>.oO Chapter 31 Oo.<strong>

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><p>Kakashi cast his gaze down the rows of soldiers standing with him on the high walls. Naruto and Gaara had insisted upon taking their places on the front lines, and the two young men were standing side by side in apprehensive silence. Gaara had carved a line of defiance into his hitai-ate to match that which marred Naruto's own, and the other shinobi in the ranks had done the same.<p>

Konoha's army and their allies among the Suna collaborators were creeping into the paths of the labyrinth like a swarm of ants. The main road to the fortress was a treacherous switchback tunneling through the rock, deliberately crafted to leave attackers vulnerable to ambush. Just before it widened before the walls, an archway had been erected, which until yesterday had been sealed by a pair of reinforced wooden doors. That had been the weakest point in their defenses… until Gaara had gotten through with them. The wood had been removed and the gap filled with chakra-saturated sandstone, leaving an unbroken wall capable, thanks to his aid, of defending _itself_.

The slice of the setting sun was shining too strongly into Kakashi's eyes for him to make out the identities of any of the soldiers below, for which he was grateful–they were both his opponents _and_ his comrades. Every shinobi on these lines faced the same dilemma. The majority of Suna's citizens had already thrown in their allegiance with the figurehead Shimura Danzō had installed as Kazekage, swayed by lies or fear or greed. It could be their friends, teammates, or family they'd be matching blades with today.

The sole individual who seemed eager for battle to be joined was Sasori, despite his earlier complaints–he had grudges enough to settle against both sides. Ten of his puppets were hovering in a ring around his body, their ragged cloaks fluttering in the wind. The prospect of heaping corpses at his feet clearly thrilled him.

Gaara held one hand against his left eye as he scanned the battlefield with a small orb of sand flying far above the maze. "They've passed the first marker, Kakashi-san." He licked his lips, watching for a few more seconds. "The second marker. Coming up on the third."

"Come on, you guys, don't screw this up," Naruto whispered.

At Kakashi's orders, Naruto's kage bunshin had concealed themselves inside the tunnels and rocky outcroppings, just after the army had filled the horizon. The Konoha scouts had already swept for motion-sensitive tags in advance of the main force, but Naruto's clones could slip back to an area that had already been cleared and detonate the explosives each was carrying tucked into their coats. Stationing their own people outside the castle would have been a suicide mission, but with dozens of clones at their disposal they'd take no losses of their own. However, if they set off the explosives too early, it would be for naught, and patience wasn't one of Naruto's virtues.

Kakashi brought his hand to the microphone strapped around his neck. "Archers ready."

Every bow their side could muster was raised and trained on that narrow road. The desert shepherds on the second level may not have been able to mold chakra, but their arrows were more than capable of punching through flak jackets and chain mail.

A beehive chakra barrier was being held in place over the attackers' heads, strong enough to reply any projectiles, but sustaining the shield required absolute concentration on the part of every shinobi who was maintaining it.

Kakashi held his breath until there was a roar and gout of dust as a portion of the wall collapsed into the column of shinobi, and shortly after came another, and another. One of the individuals maintaining the barrier faltered, probably wounded by the shrapnel that had blasted in from the sides, and with one of the supports removed the entire energy structure collapsed. At that signal, the archers loosed a volley into the confusion, felling yet more of them. The survivors quickly bypassed the mounds of rubble, moving the fallen earth aside with doton jutsu to allow the column to pass unimpeded.

"They've got people moving into the side tunnels," Naruto said, and then after a minute winced. "There goes the last of my kage bunshin out there."

The trail mouth was momentarily obscured by clouds of smoke from multiple concurrent summonings. Kakashi had been expecting that, as well. Large siege weapons were too difficult to move overland through terrain this harsh, but they could be transported instantaneously by cooperative space/time ninjutsu between multiple shinobi. He knew this trick from the assaults against walled towns in Earth Country–it had been his own sensei's idea, after all.

"Gaara, now!" Kakashi ordered.

The machines fired, the boxy forms still shrouded in dust and smoke, and a hail of spears were loosed toward the wall before them. Gaara raised his hands at the same moment, and the stone structure of the first wall went fluid. Some of the men and women on the line flinched, but the sand Gaara sent roaring up to meet the spearpoints caught every one. The explosive tags fluttering from the shafts blew apart chunks of sand where they struck, but the wounds in the stone healed quickly at Gaara's urging. He was even fast enough to spit back some of the spears before the seals went off, sowing even more chaos into the front of their enemy's ranks.

"Again, they'll reload," Kakashi said. "Are you _sure _you've got that thing under control?"

Gaara was panting with the effort of using so much of Shukaku's power without succumbing to its madness. He risked a glance sideways at Kakashi. "I promised Naruto. I won't let the demon take me… _ever_ again."

He swept his hands up a second time and the wave of sand rose with them. A few pebbles from the second round of explosions pelted the lower levels of the fort. Their ranks still untouched, one of the Suna shinobi let out a cheer for Gaara… and his fervor was contagious. A few more voices picked it up before the first one could die away, none of them louder than Naruto's. Kakashi kept quiet. It was still early. The situation would sour. Even with two jinchūriki on their side, the disadvantage was too great for it not to.

The clamor petered out when a strange buzzing shiver passed through the air. Gaara's untidy hair began to rise of its own accord, and reflexively he reached to pat it down. It clung to his hands, refusing to obey.

"What the heck's this?!" Naruto said, batting at the collar of his open coat. It had attached itself to his cheek and no amount of swatting would convince the fabric to release.

The sensation was akin to the static buildup before a lightning strike, but the dusky sky was cloudless. The ranks parted around a single figure partially obscured by the dust in air. Sparks of white light were sheeting from between his outstretched fingers.

Dread sank into the pit of Kakashi's stomach. "Take cover!" he screamed. "_Take cover_!"

He pushed Naruto down as a huge creature emerged from the arcing electricity–a wolf, sleek and narrow-snouted and glowing with such immense power they were blinded by it. It slammed into the first wall with a shrieking thunderclap. The stone burst into fragments and didn't reform. To his horror, Gaara realized he had lost control of most of the sand below. His chakra had been cancelled out by the opposing elemental force.

Those that hadn't heeded Kakashi's order were bombarded with debris. The first of the casualties on their side dropped, as the unlucky were struck in the head or chest with fragments of super-heated stone. The man who'd loosed the wolf bounded over the rubble and landed on a pinnacle of rock above the parapets. The recovering shinobi looked to Kakashi for orders, but he found himself with none to give. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he could only blink through the dust at the white-haired figure above him.

Hatake Sakumo looked exactly as he had the last day Kakashi had seen him alive. After he returned from that fateful, failed mission, Kakashi had watched his father age ten years in ten months. He cocooned himself from friends and students in strands of guilt and regret, withdrawing even from his own son. His formidable skills as a ninja evaporated into nothing, and command of his team was more and more often given over to his prized student Mikoto. It wasn't the whispers of the villagers that finally destroyed him, or how the other children would skulk after his son trying to work up the courage to spit on the Hatake crest on the back of his shirt. It was the self-doubt. Sakumo had been drowning in it.

The day he went under, Minato had taken Kakashi out for something to eat that night after training, like he'd done a hundred times before. They raced back to the Hatake compound to beat an advancing thunderstorm. Kakashi had bid his teacher goodbye at the gates. His father hadn't welcomed him home as he kicked off his shoes, which lately hadn't been unusual, but something in that silence made him terribly uneasy. Kakashi had learned why when he opened his father's bedroom door and put his bare foot down in the pool of blood–the pain in his father's heart had grown so unbearable he had decided slitting his own gut open would hurt less.

Expressionlessly, Sakumo went directly for Gaara. The other Suna shinobi, many of them young and unseasoned by true warfare, scattered in panic before the living corpse. The sand rose to defend Gaara, as it always had, but the lightning glowing from Sakumo's hands neutralized the chakra in the particles as soon as their techniques made contact. The sand formations quickly collapsed into useless grit pooling around Gaara's feet.

For the first time in his life, Gaara withdrew in fear. His over-reliance on his almost unbreakable defenses had left him slow on his feet and easy prey for one of the only men who could have succeeded in breaking them. Gaara cried out as Shukaku tore at his wavering courage and he collapsed against the wall. The maddened screeches inside his own head had become too much to bear, his eyes darkening and the flesh of his face growing deformed. His will to face the battle without was subsumed by the necessity of winning the battle within.

Before Sakumo could transform his advantage into a victory, Sasori shoved aside his retreating allies and sent two of the puppets diving to Gaara's position. The twin lizard-like hulks were bristling with overlapping plates of steel armor, riveted to flexible bodies and long, powerful tails. The mouth of the one closest to Gaara snapped open, and its tongue wrapped around his chest to pull him behind Sasori. The other ground its clawed feet into the stone and opened its jaws as well, but, instead of the prehensile tongue, it had a seal drawn on the back of its throat. A gush of high-pressure water burst from its mouth and caught Sakumo in the shoulder.

He was knocked back a few meters, but the damage the water did was soon repaired. Oblivious to all else, Sasori began battering him with the remaining eight puppets, relentlessly but without the shrewdness with which the puppeteer usually fought. His cunning was nowhere to be seen, consumed by rage at finally coming face to face with the man who had orphaned him.

While their opponent was occupied for a few moments, Naruto wriggled out from under Kakashi and knocked his elbow against Kakashi's lip, hard. He scrambled to Gaara's side, heedless of the danger he himself was in. The unexpected blow and the taste of blood in his mouth snapped Kakashi from the forlorn child back to the veteran captain. He shook off the numbing shock and got back on his feet just as another volley of spears came whistling up from the siege engines.

Without Gaara to defend them, a few of the projectiles made it high enough strike the wall above their heads. The paper hissed down to the fuse at the edge. His hands a blur, Kakashi used a few judiciously placed columns of stone to thrust the spears forcefully out again, and they detonated harmlessly in the air as they fell. He called to the scattered Suna shinobi to reform the eastern half of their lines as the army poured through the gap Sakumo had torn.

Sasori had pushed Sakumo to the very edge of the parapets, albeit at the expense of several of his puppets, which were lying in splinters across the walkway. With this reprieve, Gaara had managed to suppress the worst of Shukaku's ravings. Naruto crouched by him for a moment longer to make sure his eyes had returned to their usual pale green and hauled his friend to his feet.

Kakashi's shouted orders had succeeded in reshaping the ranks, and the Suna resistance began taking aim at the crow's nest siege engines and flying summons that were moving in to harry them. A winged reptile swooped to rake Kakashi's face with its claws; he ducked and the thing wheeled about for another pass. It had, intentionally or unintentionally, forced him closer to the midpoint of the walls, away from the two young jinchūriki. One of his shuriken tore its delicate wing membranes and he turned away from the shrieking, wounded creature to shoulder his way back to Naruto. He swore as another of Sasori's puppets shattered into kindling.

Sasori had lost all control of the situation, blind to everything but exacting a vengeance he never thought he would have the opportunity to take. Sakumo exploited the disruption in his composure to flicker his way behind Sasori, reversing the strength of their positions in an eyeblink. There was another flash of white light from Sakumo that struck Sasori in the lower torso and blew his body backward. He was lifted from the ground and struck the rocks beside the fortress with a clatter, falling a dozen meters to the ledge below, a gaping hole burned through the Akatsuki coat into the wood of his chest.

There was now nothing and no one standing between Sakumo and Naruto. The man completed a short chain of signs and drew his linked fingers apart. A vine of lightning was oscillating between his palms. It detached from his left hand and the fingers of his right closed around the sparking curl as if it were a bullwhip.

"Oh crap," Naruto mouthed.

"Otō-san, _no_!" Kakashi barked. He kicked aside the Suna chūnin blocking his path, only to be challenged by another that had managed to scale the wall. There wasn't enough time for him to reach Naruto and Gaara, but the word itself gave Sakumo pause–only for a moment, but it was long enough for Naruto to counter with a few signs of his own.

Sakumo didn't step aside, unmoved by the lackluster threat a thirteen-year-old would have posed to him. His stony expression only collapsed in surprise and recognition when a small spurt of the Kyūbi's chakra dyed Naruto's eyes red, compressing the pupils into furious slits.

"You're Kushina's–" he began in shock.

With the force of bijū's power behind it, the hurricane swallowed his words and turned the whip of lightning back on itself. Sakumo forced more power into his own technique, pulling ahead for a moment as the wildly undulating tendril of lighting struck Naruto in the forearm. Sakumo's body was shredded into leaves of ash and blown far out into the desert. Naruto clamped his will down on the wily Kyūbi and its chakra withdrew.

A few blue threads attached themselves to the stones as Sasori pulled himself back up to the first level, still among the living after a blow that would have been the death of any other man. Kakashi finally succeeded in extricating himself from the mass of shinobi and sprinted to Naruto's side. He pulled up the boy's sleeve and narrowed his eyes at the deep gash. The edges of the wound were burned like he'd been slashed with a red-hot knife, and it ran all the way to the bone.

"Who was that?!" Gaara asked, breathless.

Sasori's glass eyes were ablaze with hatred. "That... was Konoha's White Fang."

"Gaara, get Naruto inside," Kakashi said. "Sasori, you have to hold the rest of them here. I'll take Sakumo myself–I know how he fights better than anyone alive."

"I never got the chance to face him before and I am not losing the opportunity now!" Sasori snarled.

Kakashi grabbed him by a handful of his charred coat. "I can't stop the two thousand shinobi at the trail mouth–but if those stories I've heard about you are true, you can. If we don't hold out until reinforcements gets here, these two boys are going be delivered to Shimura Danzō to have their bijū ripped out and they are _both_ _going to die_. Does that mean anything to you at all?"

"You can't kill him–what would that even get you?" Naruto said, forcing the words through teeth clenched tight with pain. "Are you looking for an even more pointless end to your whole pointless life?!"

Sasori stared into the desert, frozen in indecision. His fingers probed the blackened wood in his chest, and the material crumbled inward even further. He winced, as if in pain, and his eyes drew unwillingly back to Gaara.

"Keep the White Fang away from the fort," he said. "I'll do the rest." He tore off his ruined coat and withdrew the bottommost scroll from its holster. The paper spiraled out and dozens of crimson blurs spewed forth until the sky was darkened with his puppets.

-ooo-

Gaara solved the problem of struggling to the crowded doorway by creating his own. He thrust his hand against the stone, and an oval just tall enough to accommodate him melted from the wall. The opening sealed shut as he dragged Naruto inside to relative safety. The outer rooms of this floor were empty, the civilians having been evacuated to the upper levels. Gaara helped Naruto to the interior, his wounded arm pressed to his stomach. The section immediately before the staircase contained the youngest genin and non-combat specialists as the last line of defense against the battle raging outside. The few medics the Suna rebels could boast had set up a triage station here as well, under Chiyo's direction. She was ordering her staff about, barking like a commander despite the tremulous, aged quality of her voice.

Hinata was kneeling in the back of the hall with a radio headpiece in her ear and her byakugan active, flanked by Temari, Kankurō, and a few other bodyguards. On her shoulders had fallen the critical duty of monitoring the ebb and flow of the battle, alerting the commanders when defenses were near their breaking point or Konoha's ambushes about to be sprung. "You're hurt!" she cried, getting to her feet.

Gaara let Naruto down at the edge of the temporary infirmary. He stared helplessly at the sticky liquid plastering Naruto's sleeve to his skin. "Hinata…. what do I do?"

"Press down on the inside of his elbow. Hard as you can," Hinata said, as she tore her first aid kit out of her hip pouch. Her brows crinkled in horror as she narrowed the focus of her vision before her. "That cut into bone!"

"It'll heal," Naruto said, between panting breaths. There came a muffled explosion from outside, a little dust was shaken from the ceiling. "Always does. I'll be fine."

"Matsuri, take over treating his injuries," Temari ordered over her shoulder. She looked down at Hinata. "Even a moment of inattention could get them both killed. Get back to your post."

Hinata's hands hesitated over her open first-aid kit, but she withdrew them and returned to her spot on the floor. She resumed scanning for vulnerable areas and relaying the information over the radio to her commanders.

A girl with almond-shaped eyes and her hitai-ate tied around her neck grabbed a package of bandages and hurried over. "Don't worry, I've got him, Hinata-chan."

When she knelt to pick up where Hinata left off, Naruto realized she was one of the genin with whom he'd shared his first meal in Sunagakure, one of the girls who'd been so terrified of Gaara. With the pressure on the torn blood vessels lessened, they began knitting together of their own accord. The exposed bone disappeared beneath the layers of rapidly healing muscle tissue. Matsuri watched with her mouth hanging open, looked at Gaara, and then back at Naruto in recognition.

"Yeah, I'm one too," he said, in answer to the unasked question.

There was still a little of that hesitancy left, a little fear, but Matsuri brushed it aside to focus on her task. She smeared a handful of burn ointment over the injury, and began wrapping the dressing loosely around it to keep it free of dirt and debris while it healed.

"Where's your friend?" Naruto asked, as the cooling medication took effect and the pain gradually lost its edge.

She wiped her damp face with her upper sleeve and tied off the strip of cloth. "Sari-chan was too afraid to leave with us when Sensei explained what was happening. She's still in Suna. I just hope I never have to…"

"So do we all," Temari added sadly. "How bad is he hurt?"

"The tendons were severed. In anyone else that would be a crippling injury, but for him…?" She shrugged and collected her supplies to lend her hands to the care of the other patients.

Hinata frowned into the distance at something only she could see. "I-I think Baki-san went to help Kakashi-san against that Edo Tensei… thing. Naruto blew his ashes outside my range," she reported. "Who was that man who attacked you?"

"That was Hatake Sakumo. The White Fang. He's here," Gaara said, and shuddered at the memory of their brief confrontation and the damage it had done. "He tore through the sand shield like it was nothing."

"_Him_?" Chiyo suddenly shrieked, bursting out of the infirmary's curtains and nearly knocking down a pair of militiamen carrying one of their wounded comrades. "The Hokage sent _him_?! Where's my brother? And Sasori? Is he…?"

"Ebizo-jiisama is still alive but hurt," Hinata said, after a few moments scanning the exterior. "I think he was caught in one of the explosions. Sasori-san is… he's… he's holding back the army at what's left of the first wall." A hopeful smile budded and unfolded across her face. "There aren't any more of the joint forces' troops getting through!"

"My grandson is… _what_?" she whispered, coming up short. "He hasn't gone after Sakumo?"

"No," Hinata said. "He's holding the trail mouth. For us."

Chiyo's creviced face lost its sharpness and her lips parted in bittersweet surprise. "Well…" she said to herself. "_Well._ And here I thought he'd given up on it all." She looked to Gaara, and then the distant cacophony of the conflict that was seeping in through the layers of wood and stone. "If we lose my brother and his fuinjutsu, we lose this battle," she said quietly. She pulled a stout white scroll from her sleeve, gripping it tightly. "I'm not letting those Konoha bastards kill anyone else I love."

She marched back to the infirmary and her eyes landed on one of the medics. She grabbed the young man by his short black ponytail and said, "I'm going to the front line. You're in charge now. Don't blow it."

"B-but… you're the most experienced healer here… I don't–" he stuttered, as she let go.

"Sure you do. You're a jōnin, aren't you? Must have earned that for _some_ reason. You know… leadership, skill, grace under pressure?"

"I suppose, ma'am, but–"

"Then do some leading already!" she scolded, reaching up to knock him on the temple with the scroll. With her second-in-command so chastened, she turned on her heels to stand before Gaara and his team. "You come with me. Temari, go find Maki and escort her to Kakashi's position just in case I can't…" Her lips thinned against each other. "Just in case."

"I'll go too," Naruto volunteered.

"So will I," Kankurō said.

Temari shook her head. "Someone needs to stay here to defend Hinata and the infirmary. And Naruto, accelerated healing abilities or not, you're still badly wounded."

"If they make it this far, we're all totally hosed anyway," Kankurō pointed out. "I'm not getting stuck here babysitting."

Without warning, Chiyo grabbed Naruto's injured arm, making him hiss in pain. "Can you move your fingers?"

"Yes," he said, and demonstrated, although the motions were stiff and still very painful. The connective tissue was already mending.

"Then he can fight," she pronounced. "We're so badly outnumbered no one who can stand has the luxury of staying behind."

"Fair point," Temari sighed. "Kankurō, go with Gaara. Naruto and I have at least some glimmer of a chance from the elemental advantage against a lightning user. But remember, every enemy shinobi out there was probably given orders to bring Gaara down–he's practically got a target ring painted on his forehead."

A fresh wave of wounded came streaming through the door. Chiyo stepped aside to let them pass and unfurled the scroll with a flick of her wrist. Her ten puppets, all in white, appeared beneath the high ceiling. Her eyes wandered over Gaara's stoic face. "I'd like to see them try. I don't intend to let Konoha take you." Her voice dipped very low and very sorrowful. "You were probably never told, but I did a terrible thing to you, before you'd even drawn your first breath. It's too little too late, but consider this my apology."

-ooo-

"There's a passage that leads up and out on the south side," Temari said to Naruto, heading for the stairs. "Maki-san should still be near the third level, if we hurry."

They jogged up the steep staircase to emerge on the second floor. Fuel for the torches was running low, and the halls were overcrowded and gloomy. Many of the able-bodied adults not in the thick of the fighting were helping to carry wounded or barricade doors, and the smallest children they left behind were crying inconsolably for absent parents. Pakkun was here as well, wandering among the children to lick and nuzzle whoever seemed to need it most. Naruto did his best not to step on any small hands as he trailed after Temari. She called out a few reassurances to those minding the children as she walked, but that was all the comfort she had time to spare.

She took the next flight of stairs two at a time and found the trap door leading out into the mountains. She pushed aside the half-rotten, faded rug hung over the exit. It was so low it came barely to her waist. "It's a tight squeeze, but we'll fit. This tunnel splits in two about ten meters in. We want the left fork. I don't know what we're going to find on the other side."

"Got you covered," Naruto said. He attempted to bend his fingers in the sign for kage bunshin and felt something tear under the bandages. Only a few appeared before the shooting pain broke his concentration. He grit his teeth, wishing with all his heart Sakura and her soothing hands were here beside him.

"Naruto, get back down to the infirmary," Temari told him. "I don't care what Chiyo told you; you're not in any shape to be fighting like this."

"Who else is there to send?" he asked, cradling his injured forearm in his other hand. "Open the stupid door. Kakashi-sensei is good–_really_ good–but he doesn't have the endurance to last long fighting something that can't die."

Temari bit her lip. "Is there anything I can say that would convince you to go back downstairs? If you die Gaara would–"

"_No_."

"You're not going to be much use to Maki-san as a bodyguard with only one usable hand. Konoha's going to be after you too." She withdrew a hand fan from inside her obi and handed him the weapon.

He snapped open the paper half-moon, looking it over curiously. The covers were etched with two cavorting weasels chasing each other's tails, and the metal ribs and paper had taken on a very faint glow under the fading sun shining through the slit windows.

"It's like this one–" she reached behind her shoulder to grasp the larger tessen, "–it'll channel wind chakra without you having to form signs." She affixed her hands to her hips and leaned in to give him a very pointed look. "It was my mother's and if you lose it I'll kill you."

"Thanks," he breathed. "I won't, cross my heart and hope to–"

He gave a start as he lost a clone somewhere outside, one of the number he'd scattered throughout the area before the battle was joined. Their deaths didn't usually bother him, since, while they could feel pain, it was almost always brief and muted. Their last seconds were only another jumbled memory. This one he didn't think he would ever forget… being boiled alive from the inside out was a uniquely horrific way to die.

"Uh-oh," he mumbled.

"Uh-oh?" Temari repeated. "Now what? What's 'uh-oh'?!"

"The kage bunshin I had with Maki-san just bit the dust," he said. "I don't know who killed it. Weird hair, big tits? I didn't get a good look at her before everyone around me," he gulped, "sort of… got turned into a bunch of human raisins."

"Oh _damn _it. _She's_ here?" Temari hissed. "The reports said she should still be in Suna!"

"Who's 'she'?" Naruto asked in trepidation.

"Pakura. The woman Konoha set up as their pet Kazekage," Temari said with snort of derision. "This is _bad_. Pakura is nowhere near as dangerous as my father was, but she's still nothing for a couple genin to be trifling with."

She tore open the door, shoved one of the clones through the opening, and crawled in after it. Once the interior door shut, it was utterly dark, and they had to make their way by touch alone. Cautiously, the kage bunshin taking the lead cracked open the door to the outside. When it heard nothing, it stuck its head past the opening and motioned for the rest of them to follow. The passage terminated in a sheltered ledge away from the turmoil of the battlefield, hidden in the stones deposited by an ancient rockfall. There was an ominous glow visible over the boulders, akin to the light of a bonfire, although the land was so desolate there was nothing below that could burn.

In silence, Temari unhooked the tessen from her back. Her fan tucked under her arm, she heaved herself up and peered out from the cover of the rocks. Naruto found his own foothold and craned his neck, his kage bunshin fidgeting near the entrance. The Suna rebels his clone had watched die were lying in twisted heaps at the bottom of the gully, their skin stretched thin over the outlines of their bones. He grimaced, feeling ill.

Maki was the only one still alive. After the torchlit darkness of the tunnels, the twin suns orbiting Pakura's body were blinding. The globes kept Maki on the defensive–it was plain she was badly outmatched and only minutes away from defeat at best. The unfurled bolt of cloth she was using to defend herself was torn in multiple places and dotted with holes like oversized cigarette burns. She dodged one of the miniature suns and spun about in the air to rebound against the walls and pass by the other, putting some distance between her and Pakura. Her shoulders were heaving with the desperation of her breathing, but she seemed uninjured.

"We have to help her!" Naruto said fiercely, in a hushed voice. "One of you stay here," he said, addressing the kage bunshin. "The other three, scatter, I'll need you!" Clenching the fan in his teeth, he hauled himself up to find a higher point from which to attack.

"Idiot, don't charge into–" Temari whispered through her teeth, grasping vainly after the hem of his coat.

Naruto bounded to the highest nearby rock, concentrated his chakra into his fingers, and swung the fan. Despite its petite size compared to Temari's preferred weapon, the resulting blast was massive. Invisible until it struck the patches of dust below, Pakura had barely any warning about what was bearing down on her.

But she did not discount the threat of anyone clad in a black coat, even if it was only a child cloaked in the pattern. She and her twin suns disappeared from his line of fire before the mass of wind blades could strike, and only dust and rocks went tumbling to the ground below. She landed on the steep sides of the gully a dozen meters down, anchoring her feet with two sustained pulses of chakra. Only a few of the invisible knives had made contact with her skin. The nicks were minor, one on her ankle and another on her temple, which had split the band of her hitai-ate and a lock of her hair.

As soon as the technique was loosed, Naruto had replaced his body with that of the clone that had hung back near the entrance, returning himself to Temari's side. He stared at the weapon in his hand. "I have _got_ to get me one of these," he whispered to himself.

Temari blinked the grit out of her eyes and opened her fan to display all three violet moons. "You're such a hyperactive little monkey sometimes I forget how powerful you really are." She snorted. "And you're smarter than I remember."

Pakura pulled the torn headband loose and wiped away the blood dripping down her cheekbones with the back of her hand. She was tall and lithe, with large eyes half hidden behind the locks of bicolored hair framing her face. "You're the resurrected Kyūbi's vessel, aren't you?" she called. "The containment teams will be here shortly to deal with you… you're not the one I'm interested in."

Maki had used the distraction to disappear behind a spiral of her white cloth and reappeared beside the genin. The long white sheet came undulating after her. "Thank you, Naruto-kun," she said, panting heavily. "Don't let those globes even brush you," she added. "The shakuton is almost instantly fatal."

"Maki-san, you're needed on the other side of the fortress," Temari said out of the side of her mouth. "Ebizo-jiisama was injured. You may be our last hope of sealing Hatake Sakumo and winning this battle. We'll hold her here."

"You may be a tessenjutsu prodigy, but you can't win against her! She'll kill you!" Maki protested under her breath.

Pakura tossed her damaged hitai-ate away and braced her hand against her thigh. "I will give you one more chance to surrender and face justice, Maki," she said dully. "Temari, I suggest you take it as well. I do not enjoy cutting short the lives of promising young shinobi, but if you do not lay down your weapons I will find myself with no choice."

The globes of fire flared and grew larger, splitting into four. They fully illuminated Pakura's face, and the cast of deep sadness Naruto was surprised to find there. "How could you have turned on me?" she asked the young woman beside him. "Joined with the man who tried to have me killed?" She looked up and down at Naruto's black coat. "Joined with _them_?"

Temari did not move to drop her fan. "Baki-sensei has done no such thing! He was set up!" she said with heat. "Why would he try to kill you? He never wanted to become Kazekage. He left because living leashed and collared as Konoha's dog was something he couldn't bear… and neither could I!"

Maki heaved a miserable sigh. "Sensei, I told you I never…"

"You betrayed me and turned on your village in its most desperate time. I don't know where I went wrong as your mentor, but it is my failure and I intend to rectify it before you can damage Sunagakure any further."

"_Sensei_?" Naruto repeated to himself, feeling another surge of outrage spurt up from the slow burn he was nursing against Shimura Danzō. It was no wonder the woman seemed so dismayed about killing Maki–she'd been tricked by the stolen eye just like Kakashi's old teammate. The anger flowed across his mind to spark an idea. Without drawing on the Kyūbi's power he was no match for a kage, even a weak one by the standards of the rank. There was no way they could defeat her… but then, maybe they didn't _need_ to defeat her. He had only known her student for a few days, but that the cloth binding master was fighting beside him at all was proof she was both courageous and principled… and their survival hinged on the hope that her master was as well.

Naruto licked his lips and pushed aside the edge of Temari's fan. "You don't want to do this, I can see it–and you don't have to. Shimura Danzō lied to you. He reached into your head and dropped in a handful of fake memories to get you to follow him, just like he's done to my comrades back in Konoha. He's been playing you like he's been playing everyone else… tricking you into fighting people who aren't your enemies!"

"What are you talking about?" Pakura said. "There is no such jutsu in existence."

"Sensei, please, _please_ listen to me," Maki begged, her voice splintering with emotion. "He's telling you the truth. When have I ever lied to you? When have I ever wished you harm? You've always trusted a little too easily, and the Hokage is using that for all it's worth!"

"I know what I saw," Pakura said icily, although her expression betrayed her own uncertainty.

One of the globes split into a shower of lights and the deadly fireworks rained down on their formation. Temari swung her fan to deflect them, but they were only slowed, not stopped, and the fire greedily swallowed the extra oxygen to grow even larger. The three of them had to scatter. Naruto hastily replaced himself with one of the kage bunshin hiding in the rubble of the rockfall. If he was going to buy them more time, he needed a way to douse those fires.

Most of the globes went spinning for Maki and she snapped up her cloth shield. The chakra saturating it lent her some protection, but within a second it began to darken and smoke and the globes began breaking through. Hidden in the stones, Naruto bit down on his thumb and worked his way through the summoning signs, an effort that left his eyes watering with pain.

The smoke around Shima thinned in the dry breeze, as she appeared crouched on the ledge with him. "Naruto-chan?" she said. She reached for the bandage on his arm, concerned. "You're wounded! What is it that you need?"

"Someone who can use the suiton," he panted. "Quick!"

The toad sage winced at a particularly violent explosion from over the ridges. Without another word, she jumped to a larger, more level platform and performed a summoning of her own. The toad that appeared was about three times Naruto's height and all black except for splotches of blue on his forearms, with a sleek silhouette and long, flexible fingers on its forelegs. "You'll find few more skilled than he!" she called. She rejoined Naruto on the small ledge and landed on his head, taking hold of his headplate to peer down into his eyes. "You can barely form signs, can you?" she asked. "A battlefield is no place for a boy, even one as powerful as you. I'm staying right here until I find that Kakashi and give him a piece of my mind. Honestly."

"Not like I had a lot of choice," Naruto said, nudging up his headband.

The larger amphibian bowed his head briefly at Naruto, taking note of the fan in his uninjured hand. "You are a wind user?" he asked. "Stand in front of me and we'll make it rain. Quickly now, quickly!"

Temari had been battering Pakura with the invisible knives sleeting off her fan, but like Naruto she'd not had much luck getting them to connect. Pakura had immediately taken notice of the summoned creature's appearance and withdrew her globes, preparing to face the new threat.

As Shima had promised, her clansman was quite skilled. The toad spat out three mouthfuls of water in quick succession, the first two to douse the lights and the fourth to strike Pakura in the chest. They missed, but with her attention momentarily diverted, his agile forelegs flowed through four signs and brought forth a jet of water with the intensity of a waterfall. Naruto swung just as his new ally finished crafting the suiton, using an explosion of air to burst the water jet up and apart to rain down on Pakura and her remaining spheres of fire. They hissed, smoked, and were snuffed out, leaving them suddenly in darkness. The wind bowled her over and she lost her balance. Naruto let out a whoop of triumph.

"Maki-san, now! Just run!" Temari screamed. She hefted her fan and readied to blast the space where Pakura had fallen, still trying to adjust to her eyes to the low light. Using her chakra to affix her feet to the steep sides, Maki sprinted for the opposite side of the fortress. She nearly stopped to turn her head back, unwilling to leave her teacher to die, but rallied and kept running.

Temari's wind blades sent mud splattering high into the air. Naruto felt a stab of triumph and sadness as one parted Pakura's head from her body… but what gouted from her neck wasn't blood–it was gritty _mud_. The damaged sand clone lost its cohesions and melted into the puddles.

Temari felt Pakura's presence behind her and whipped around as her shunshin released, but was too slow to counter to her attack. Pakura seized Temari's wrist, kicked her down, and rotated her shoulder with enough force to dislocate the joint. She screamed and doubled over atop her fan.

"You think no one's ever tried that on me before?" Pakura asked Naruto, sweeping her muddy hair from her eyes.

Using the spires poking out of the pool as stepping stones, Pakura bounded into the air, tucked herself into a somersault, and landed on a patch of ground in front of Maki. The coil of hair atop her head had come loose, and the wet strands hung ragged down her shoulders, but she wasn't even hurt.

Maki raised her sheet of cloth but Pakura ducked under it to attack her hand-to-hand. They traded a few blows until Pakura landed a punch in the other woman's stomach, forcing her to the ground with another sharp strike to her shoulder. Maki rolled through the stumble and tried to rise again, but before she could regain her footing Pakura kicked her in the face and the younger woman tumbled down the slope.

The globes of light were rekindled and formed a ring around them both, and another appeared above Naruto's head that forced both him and the toad both to abandon their ground. The large beast was cornered as the deadly light split into four, and was forced to flee back to his mountain before he was boiled alive. The chakra struck the wet stone he'd been standing upon and fizzled out.

Maki groaned and coughed as her body came to rest in a rocky hollow, her nose bloodied. Pakura followed and extracted a kunai from her thigh pouch. She grabbed Maki by the collar of her flak jacket to slam her against the rock face.

"_She's innocent_!" Naruto screamed, clambering over the uneven rocks. "You kill her here, and once you learn the truth you'll regret this day for the rest of your life!"

The kunai edge pressed against Maki's throat wavered, dipped and withdrew. Pakura released her flak jacket and Maki sagged against the boulder in relief. The globes still hovering over the scene disappeared one by one.

Pakura got to her feet. "If I make the decision to execute my only student, I want to be very, _very_ sure I am doing the right thing. I'm not saying I believe you–not yet, not without proof–but if I killed you now," she looked at Naruto, "and turned you over to a tyrant…" The last of the spheres faded, leaving them in the light of the night's first stars. "You're right. I wouldn't be able to live with that stain on my soul if I were wrong." She took a step back to allow Maki to rise. "Edo Tensei is evil. Stop it, if you can. I won't tell anyone I found you."

"If you knew what he was doing was wrong, why help Danzō?" Naruto asked.

"Iwagakure would have wiped us off the map," she answered. "The losses we took from the arena collapse left us too weak to resist them if they started moving troops through the mountain passes, like our spies had reported." Her face shifted into an expression of melancholic resignation similar to that which he'd seen so many times on Itachi's. "And because _someone_ had to do it. If I could soften the blows, weasel my way around the most oppressive of Konoha's commands… for the sake of my shinobi I had to try. If history remembers my time as Godaime Kazekage as the reign of a collaborator and a coward, very well. At least some of my comrades will still be here _to_ remember it."

"You're no coward, Sensei," Maki whispered, pulling herself up. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"I'm walking the knife's edge helping you," Pakura reminded them sharply. "You three–go. Before I change my mind. _Go!_"

-ooo-

Gaara placed his hand on the thick walls and forced some of his chakra through the sandstone. He used it to extrude an eye from the grit on the other side. "Ebizo-jiisama is wounded. Ten o'clock. On the ground," he said, after the small orb rose high enough to scout for him. "He can't walk. He's still fighting off the joint forces, but he's been surrounded–the nurses won't be able to reach him. They're coming over the peaks now, trying to get around Sasori." He traced his fingers over the walls to where the clumps of enemy shinobi were thinnest. "I'll go first. Stay behind me."

"When did you get so responsible, anyway?" Kankurō said, as he pulled the storage scrolls from the holsters on his legs and summoned both of his puppets. "I'm two years older than you; I'm not the one who's supposed to need the protecting."

"I have my sand shield. When I am wounded, I heal much more quickly than you do. I do not need you to defend me from my enemies." One eye still closed as he monitored the situation outside, waiting for an opening, he turned his face to his brother's embarrassed frown. "I hurt you, yet you forgave me. You've called on others to do the same. Winning back the trust I've lost is something all the power in the world can't do for me… and _that_ is why I still need my brother and my sister."

Kankurō had to smile at that. "You know, I don't think you've called me that–called me your brother and meant it–since you were a little kid."

The puppets behind Chiyo clicked and shifted in anticipation. "Whenever you're ready, Gaara-kun."

The sandstone before him dissolved into the particles of which it was composed, leaving only a thin skin on the exterior wall. The entire contents of his gourd and then the vessel itself went liquid to prepare for his first attack. He inhaled deeply, and a river of sand burst into the night, sweeping away the Konoha troops in his path. The current tugged at his allies as it flowed past their feet, but left them unharmed. Part of the wall farthest from them had been blow away by a particularly powerful explosion, and the sand streamed down the heap of rubble, pulling stones back into place and cementing them there.

Displaying admirable grace for a seventy-year-old woman, Chiyo arrayed her collection around her and burst through the opening Gaara had made. She stepped over the wall, running down the vertical face with her hands outspread. Her puppets working in perfect concert, she swept away the shinobi standing between her and her younger brother.

Kankurō moved to follow her, but his gaze was arrested by the dozens of puppets already in the air, more than he had ever seen, more than it should be possible for one man to control. Some were broken upon the ground far beyond repair, amidst the human corpses, and as he watched one was caught alight by a katon jutsu and fell. Another rose to take its place.

Gaping, he murmured, "That's incredible."

Those attackers who were skilled enough to scale the treacherous vertical planes had circumvented Sasori's bottleneck at the mouth of the maze. Gaara had tossed many from the wall, but every second more were taking their place. He nudged Kankurō's attention back to the dangerous task at hand, after closing the gap behind them. He remained on the first level of the fortress to assist his comrades in picking off the any enemies that reached him.

Ebizo was wedged into the rocks at ground level, still fending off the circle of Konoha shinobi around him despite the blood staining his robes.

"Someone help me get him up and to shelter!" Chiyo called over the din.

Her voice was nearly lost in the screams of triumph and pain. Kankurō could barely make out the words, but he could guess the intent. When no one else answered her call, he took a running leap and vaulted over the wall. He ducked a fire blast from a Konoha chūnin and used Black Ant's rotund body to shield himself from a handful of shuriken whose source he couldn't even see. The first man who'd attacked dashed to close with him, drawing the short sword sheathed at his waist. Before he could become entangled in a knife fight he'd almost certainly lose, Kankurō switched positions with Crow, and the tantō thunked into wood. The hidden knife in his Crow's upper arm snapped into view and Kankuro thrust the point into the man's neck before he could free his own blade.

The thrill of his win was short-lived; something cracked him across the shoulders and he stumbled forward and landed on his left palm. He threw himself on his back only to encounter the point of the naginata whose butt had sent him sprawling, and the triumphant sneer of the kunoichi who wielded it.

The tip suddenly withdrew as the woman was jerked backward by a coil of metal that looped around her throat. It constricted like a snake, squeezing until it snapped her neck. Sasori tossed her corpse aside. His wooden body was badly battered–scorched or splintered in half a dozen places. He was already turning to face his next opponent before Kankurō could thank him.

"You should be more careful–I wouldn't like seeing so much talent go to waste," he called over his shoulder.

Bewildered but grateful, Kankurō sprinted the last few meters to where Chiyo was standing over her brother.

"I saw that… hotheaded dolt," she reproached him, although she was smiling faintly through it. "Never thought I'd be seeing my grandson protecting one of the Yondaime's children."

Gaara moved to the edge of the walls to throw a mass of sand over them as a shield. It spit bullets of compressed minerals at any enemy shinobi who came close. Safe for the moment, Chiyo dropped her puppets to attend to Ebizō's injuries.

"Thank you," he whispered to his sister. "I thought it was too late for me."

"Shut up and let me work," she snapped. "You'd better hold on, too. We already agreed we're both dying of old age in nice, soft beds, remember?"

Kankurō kept his two puppets hovering at the ready, to defend her from whatever might slip through Gaara's divided attentions. After a few minutes of work, Chiyo withdrew her hands and renewed the chakra threads on her collection. Her white puppets rose from the ground, one of them helping Ebizō to his feet and another lifting the bolt of cloth for him. "That's the best I can do. They need you over the ridge. Come on."

He tried to stagger along with its help, but after a few steps his legs would no longer support him. "I can't. I can't take on the White Fang. Not like this… I've lost too much blood." He bowed his head. "We're not as young as we used to be, Onee-san. It's up to that girl now… I'm sorry."

Chiyo swore under her breath. She used her largest puppet, a lavender-skinned, ogrelike beast, to lift Ebizō to relative safety and let the combat medics inside take care of the rest.

A disc of sand lowered Gaara to the ground and he joined Kankurō as his shield retracted. They could hear the thunder of Sakumo's battle inching closer.

"Now what?" Kankurō asked. "Now what do we do?"

"What do you think we do?" Gaara answered, raising his sand again. "We're shinobi. We fight until we can't."

-ooo-

The strength of Naruto's fūton had shredded Sakumo's body, lifting the flakes of ash on the winds and carrying them far into the hills. Kakashi halted for a moment in his pursuit, craning his neck to watch the particles draw together into a denser cloud, all shimmering with chakra before his unconcealed sharingan. He had almost been expecting this… for his father, of all people, to be the one hauled brutally from the peace of the Pure Lands to fight again on Wind Country's sands. He had been a general during the Second Great War, winning Konoha victory after victory, and his name and bright blade had struck terror into the hearts of the desert shinobi. Shimura Danzō had known him personally and seen his abilities firsthand. Tactically, it was a logical choice.

The reality of it was not so easy to swallow. Kakashi's memories of Sakumo belonged to his child's self, blinded by awe of skill and power his small body couldn't even begin to equal. Sparring with his father had been grueling, and as a lanky seven-year-old against a jōnin, he'd never won a match. Doubt was sidling into his mind, whether he, although a man grown and a shinobi renowned in his own right, would be able to hold out.

"Kakashi-san, wait!" Baki called from far behind him. "You can't intend to do this alone!"

He had, but neither was he going to turn away help. Kakashi waited for him to catch up. "Don't they need you on the line?"

Baki lifted his chin into the direction the wind was blowing, watching the unearthly dust curl against the air currents. "Not as much as I need to keep Sakumo away from Gaara, if he were to overcome you. I can't let Konoha take him, for the sake of my allies in Ame… and for friends who have long since passed on. I'm coming with you. I can do more good out here."

He gave Baki an almost imperceptible smile and nod of respect, and gestured for the Suna jōnin to follow him. The darkness and the scree pooling in the slopes made footing treacherous, and they continued the pursuit in silence. The mass of chakra struck a cliff and spiraled down as it grew too dense for the wind to support it any longer. There was a rustling as if they had stepped from a desert into a whispering poplar forest, and the colorless leaves of the kinjutsu began clumping together into a human form.

Crouching on the higher ground, Kakashi paused to speak while they still had time to do so. "His primary elemental affinity is lightning, like mine, and his knowledge of fire and earth techniques is extensive. The tantō strapped to his back is probably a replica of the blade he left to me. It's chakra-conducting and can't be blocked by steel weapons or armor–it'll cut right through them both. If we can disarm him we'll have a better chance. He had arthritis in his hands and back, and it left him physically weaker than he looks."

"I understand," Baki acknowledged. "Let me handle defense–I have the elemental advantage over a raiton user. And I've been told I have some skill with swords."

"I didn't see you carrying one," Kakashi said.

"Precisely," Baki said. He raised his right hand, extending his first two fingers and tucking the rest beneath his thumb. A blade of pure chakra sprouted from his fingers, a weapon that would be invisible to anyone else's eye, impossible to track, impossible to block.

Details could be seen in the humanoid shape now, as color returned to his body. Kakashi stood to face him as Sakumo finally opened his eyes. He landed on the oblong rock half-buried in the sand, opposite his father.

"Kakashi?" he whispered, dazed. "That really is you… you're so tall. What year is this? How old are…?"

"I'm twenty-seven," he answered. Hearing that familiar voice was another blow. The walls of his composure were threatening to crumble. "Otō-san," he said. "You know I can't let you past."

"But you can't be here. You _can't_ be–" He looked over the coat and the slash through his son's headplate, an unmistakable symbol even without the history of Akatsuki behind it. "Why is my son fighting beside my enemy?!"

"I didn't turn on Konoha; I was betrayed first," Kakashi said. "It's been twenty years. The boundaries between the hidden villages don't mean what they used to mean. There's change coming, change like the world hasn't seen since the Shodai founded Konoha and stopped the wars between the shinobi clans."

"That blond boy… he's Kushina's child and the successor of her burden, isn't he?"

"Yes. Her and Minato-sensei's," he said. "They took good care of me, after you were gone. I hope you understand why I can't let you take their son, no matter what the cost."

Sakumo's body convulsed as Kakashi saw a disruption in his chakra emanate from the base of his skull. He reached behind him and pulled free the heavy-bladed tantō strapped to his back. "Kakashi, I can't control my own hands. My body isn't my own. Please run. _Please_…"

Chakra trickled into the blade, and it went white and humming and sharp as death. "I just told you… I can't do that," Kakashi said.

Sakumo's fame had cast a long shadow. He had been dead for twenty years and still, even now, Kakashi had a difficult time imagining his life with that shade cast over his accomplishments. He'd never learned if he could have measured up.

The first strike came and passed him by, biting only air–as did the next, and the next. Astonishment thrilled up his spine. As long as his sharingan lasted, he was faster. He was _better_. On the next swing, he caught Sakumo's fist as the blade curved toward his neck. Surprise drifted across his father's features as the sword's glow illuminated Kakashi's mismatched eyes.

"Where did you get that sharingan?" Sakumo asked.

"A gift from a friend, just before he died. I wish you could have met him… you would've liked him."

Sakumo managed to foul up his balance with a sharp jerk of his hand and they broke apart. Whatever directives the compulsion seal had given him, they were not easily refused. He could slow the swing of his sword a hair, or warn Kakashi before a feint, but that was all the aid he could give. Circumstance forced Kakashi to be miserly with his chakra, and against an immortal enemy there was little point to expending it on powerful ninjutsu until he could be incapacitated and sealed. Baki watched from a distance, keeping his body between the fortress and the two combatants, absorbing the details Sakumo's technique and scanning for any weak points he could exploit.

Drawing him away from the fortress swing by swing, Kakashi could sense his father's ability to resist was weakening even further. Even speech had become difficult.

They passed from the open ground to a field of boulders and broken arches, and for a moment Kakashi lost sight of him–in a conflict between jōnin, always a dangerous situation. While he was alive, he had been handicapped by the same lackluster chakra reserves that dogged most of his family line, and tended to use kage bunshin very sparingly.

That disadvantage had been erased by his resurrection. Kakashi's ears were sharper than his father had given him credit for; another set of light footsteps joined the first, and then the scrape of one pair of sandal soles against the rock dissipated with a slight shifting of dust and pebbles.

Baki had followed him into the rock field, ready to offer whatever assistance he could but also carefully conserving his own energy.

On a hunch, Kakashi withdrew a kunai and punctured the flash of white he saw between the pillars before his opponent could close with him again. "He's underground!" Kakashi called out.

The warning nearly came too late. Baki spun about and created an invisible shield in the palm of his hand. It caught the sword blade that had appeared silently behind him. The tightly compressed disc of wind chakra withstood the clash in a way no physical material ever could. The backlash sent Sakumo's hair whipping into his eyes and stirred up a whirlwind of dust. Baki ground his feet into the earth and braced his shield with the other hand. He was taller, younger, and more powerfully built, and the older man's stiff joints couldn't match his strength. When Sakumo faltered, the shield changed shape, reverting to a cutting tool. Baki shoved him off balance and swiped the infinitely sharp blade across Sakumo's right forearm. His weapon lost its glow as it fell into the dust, and Baki kicked it toward Kakashi by the hilt.

As Naruto had done before, Baki used his elemental affinity to blast his opponent backward and tear apart the unearthly substance of his flesh, scattering it in the wind. What was left of Sakumo's body splattered across the stone. The gobbets of blood and cloth crisped to leaves of ash and soon drew back together in the endless cycle.

Kakashi bent to pick up the sword, and his fingers closed around the sharkskin wrapped around the hilt. As he stepped out of the shadows of the rocks, holding the sword up to the moonlight, he realized it _wasn't_ a replica. The metal had a subtle wave pattern across the cutting edges, a sign it was the product of a master artisan, in contrast to the cheap, disposable, machine-made kunai most shinobi carried. The complex engraving on guard followed exactly the same curls as he remembered–it was truly his sword.

He had brought the pieces home from Iwa but never gotten around to having it reforged. It was too expensive… he couldn't find time to visit the swordsmith… there had been a dozen transparent excuses not to dredge up all those memories again. Whoever had cleaned out his room in the boardinghouse must have recognized the value of that broken blade in its silk-lined box, and not thrown it out with the rest of his personal affects. It wasn't until he'd held it in his hand again he realized how glad he was he never threw the thing out. Holding it still felt right.

"How many more of those do you have left in you?" Kakashi asked, catching his breath as he lowered the weapon. He hadn't quite shaken the residual fatigue left from the conflict with Tenzō.

"Not many," Baki answered. "In terms of raw power, Temari's already surpassed me."

In the lull, Kakashi radioed the other resistance leaders, asking after the sealing masters, but no one seemed to be able to pin down their whereabouts. Gritting his teeth, he closed the channel as the dust reform again. Deprived of his favorite weapon, Sakumo fell back on his limitless supply of ninjutsu. There was no way they could compete with an unlimited well of chakra, muscles that never tired, lungs that never ached for air–they were being pushed back. They did what they could to disrupt the techniques before they could coalesce, but Sakumo was too fast for them to triumph every time.

Without a sharingan's prescient vision, Baki had more difficulty avoiding the nips and burns of Sakumo's jutsu, and before long his clothing was charred and smoking in several places. He didn't readily show fatigue, but he too was tiring in this unwinnable fight.

Kakashi read his ally's now-familiar signs and joined the burst of air with a breath of fire timed to force Sakumo back yet again. Baki dropped down from a boulder to reclaim some of their lost ground, but one of his burned legs buckled on the landing and he fell against the rocks.

"Are you all right?" Kakashi asked, as he crested the ridge and slid down to his side.

Baki took a breath and righted himself without assistance. "Are _you_?"

Both questions went unanswered. Kakashi renewed his grip on the tantō and they were swept back into the downward spiral of the fight. If this had been a match against a vulnerable, mortal being, a real person and not a living corpse, they would have been able to claim victory at least three times already… but it wasn't. Kakashi's temples ached and concentration was starting to fray, the first signs the continuous use of his sharingan had drained his chakra well almost dry.

His hope he would be able to repulse his enemy long enough to keep Naruto safe was fraying as well. He had refused to accept his own genin teams for exactly this reason… that he would fail again–_again_–at protecting someone he had come to care for. He forced his wavering concentration back to the battle, dispatching another of Sakumo's endless kage bunshin with a swing of the white blade.

His real body finished preparing a long chain of signs for a ball of lightning. He raised it above his head and the light exploded into four simultaneous strikes. Kakashi leaped away in time to avoid them, but there was a cry of pain from his left–Baki had not. Kakashi's mouth puckered with a curse. The electricity had burned a hole through his vest just below the cylindrical scrolls pockets, and Sakumo was moving in to finish him off.

Kakashi landed on top of a pillar and thrust the tantō into his sash for a moment. His hands free, he dropped to ground level and created a localized earthquake under Sakumo's feet. The crest of rock rose to buck him several meters away, saving Baki for the moment. He was buffeted by dizziness when he straightened, and his peripheral vision started going black. He scrubbed his eyes with one hand, willing the exhaustion away for a little longer. If this didn't end soon, they were both dead.

As his eyesight cleared, he saw an odd shape was blocking out the stars, gliding silently in a wide arc to take Sakumo from behind. He squinted into the darkness. Someone stood up on the surface and Kakashi recognized the distinctive silhouette of an Akatsuki coat billowing in the wind. Naruto raised his hand to form a single sign and two dozen of him dropped down on Sakumo.

"Now! Maki-san, get him!" one of Naruto's clones yelled from the melee.

Temari appeared from behind a pillar with the real Naruto, who had swept himself from harm's way while his clones piled on Sakumo. They split up; Naruto went left to reclaim and raise the borrowed tessen and blasted the field where Sakumo had fallen, and Temari broke right to see to her gravely wounded teacher. Her left arm was bound up in a sling fashioned from her obi, but she didn't shrink from the fight. Maki unfurled her bolt of tattered cloth in preparation to seal him.

Naruto's jubilant expression fell when he realized the winds had not connected. Once the smoke left by Naruto's kage bunshin had dissipated, no shreds of the immortal body remained–Sakumo had already sunk underground and out of harm's way.

He resurfaced in a burst of sand, aiming some of the grit deliberately into Kakashi's face. Momentarily blinded and unable to counter it, Sakumo kicked him in the stomach and he tumbled over a low ledge. The short fall didn't give him time to rotate in the air to absorb the impact. He landed awkwardly on his back, striking his right arm on the sharp edge of a stone, and for a few moments couldn't draw in a breath. The tantō skidded across the rocks and came to rest in a shallow depression a few meters away.

Sakumo landed on the lower ground and reclaimed his sword. Still mostly blind, dazed from the fall, and struggling to breathe, Kakashi made an easy target. Before Sakumo could impale him, Baki pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Temari's protests. He tackled Sakumo from behind, trying to wrest the blade from his hands.

"Stay _right_ here or so help me I'll kill you myself," Shima said into Naruto's ear, yanking hard on a handful of his hair to prevent him from darting into the melee to aid Kakashi. "Temari, get back! You kids stay out of this, I'll take it from here!" She launched herself from Naruto's head and called, "Maki-san, your chance to shine!"

"She's thirty centimeters tall. She's… she's a _frog_. She can't seriously be…" Temari began.

Shima executed a few signs in the air and hit Sakumo with a tightly controlled column of wind that knocked him off Baki as they tumbled down the incline. She landed inside the concealed hollow of a rock formation and paused there for a few moments, perfectly still, waiting for Maki to get within sealing distance. The blow she'd landed wasn't enough to fully disable Sakumo, and the gouge it tore into his torso quickly healed. Shima's muscular legs contracted and released as Maki got into position, and she spun to kick one of the rock pillars. The column, wide as an old tree trunk, shattered as her hind foot struck it. Sakumo managed to dodge the falling rubble, but she was now so swift and so strong from the few seconds' worth of senjutsu chakra she had gathered, he couldn't avoid the next pillar she sent crashing down on him. It toppled with another powerful kick and pinned Sakumo's left arm under a ton of rock. Shima exhaled and an inferno erupted from her mouth, enveloping her enemy in a fireball before he could free himself.

Just at the moment the human shape had reformed, but he could not yet move, Maki enveloped his body in a cocoon of her cloth. She darted down the slope to slap her palm against the fabric, affixing the tag she's prepared, and black lines squirmed out of the six-pointed star painted on the paper to lock the prison tight.

"We did it," Naruto whispered. "_We did it_."

Shima allowed the last of the natural energy she'd gathered to dissipate, exhaled a gusty sigh, and hopped back to where Naruto was standing. He bent to her level, hugging his knees. "Thanks, Sennin Baa-chan. You're the best–literally _the best_. That was crazy! You just kicked it and… bam! There were little rock bits everywhere!"

"Oh shush, you little flatterer, I got lucky," she said. "If it wasn't so dark he'd have realized it was me that you'd managed to summon, and that never would have worked." She brushed some of the dust from her cloak. "When you're older, and if you ask nicely, my husband and I might even teach you how to do that someday. Come on, let's check on Kakashi-kun. He doesn't look well."

Kakashi was still conscious, although he was having noticeable difficulty keeping his eyes focused. Baki was in far worse shape. His breathing had become very shallow and labored from the injury to his chest, although the heat of the lightning had cauterized the wound and it wasn't bleeding heavily.

"Kakashi-sensei, please tell me you're not about to…?" Naruto began.

"I can pass out after we get him to the medics," Kakashi said. "Get your kage bunshin to carry the body back inside. Maki-san, help me get him up."

Naruto's clones improvised a sling by sliding their twisted-up coats underneath the white form, and four of them lifted Sakumo's immobilized body. Temari tore herself away from her teacher's side and took the lead, sweeping the area ahead for enemy shinobi.

As the clones struggled over the rough ground with their burden, without warning one of the six ropes of fuinjutsu embedded on its surface suddenly snapped. There was a spark from inside the cocoon, where the overlapping layers of chakra-saturated cloth, scorched and tattered from the skirmish with Pakura, hadn't quite met in a perfect seal.

The kage bunshin were skewered by the lightning that exploded from the bound corpse. Shima spat out a globe of air to insulate Naruto from the attack, but had to retreat back to her mountain as it was pierced and she nearly struck in the head. He threw his hands before his face to shield his eyes from the brightness. The prison was engulfed in flame and the smell of charred cotton as Sakumo tore it apart.

Temari cried out and fell to her knees, clutching her side where the jutsu had grazed her ribs. Kakashi and Maki both stumbled as Baki's full weight fell on their shoulders. Kakashi dropped him and shoved up his headband in a desperate, futile effort to subdue Sakumo.

Baki was an exceptionally tall man and very heavy, and Naruto darted in to help Maki heave him off her. When they flipped him on his back, Temari choked in anguish. He'd taken one of the blasts full in the throat…. he was already dead. Naruto scrabbled backward as he felt the ground beneath him turned to quicksand. He and Maki both sank rapidly down to their waists before the material resolidified, trapping them in the matrix. Naruto screamed in fury as the Kyūbi's strength surfaced in his limb. The packed dirt around his body began to crack.

Already drained nearly to the point of unconsciousness, Kakashi couldn't hold his father back for more than a few blows. The same doton jutsu that had trapped Naruto and Maki grasped at him as well, pulling his ankles into the earth and his right hand into the stone pillar he'd fallen against. He tugged vainly at his captured arm, but his muscles had been sapped of all their strength and he couldn't break free.

"Naruto, whatever happens to me, you will not release that thing, do you understand?!" he shouted. "You will _not_! You will not dishonor Minato and Kushina that way!"

Kakashi looked up to face the inevitable conclusion. Sakumo renewed the chakra flowing into the sword in his hand. He went to one knee and lowered the point to the midpoint of Kakashi's chest, directly above his heart. The compulsion seal had robbed Sakumo of his speech and agency, but his cheeks were slick with tears. The tip of his sword was shivering with his futile efforts to hold it back. Kakashi felt it slide through his chainmail shirt and prick into his skin.

"Otō-san, I forgive you," Kakashi whispered. "For this… for leaving me… for everything."


	32. Chapter 32

"I got us the rides," Fū announced over the wind, gently patting the carapace of the lavender dragonfly on which she sat. She shifted her weight in the six-person saddle that had been lashed around its thorax and looked at Itachi in expectation, who was sitting beside her. "You promised to get us inside Suna."

The team had donned heavy scarves and goggles to shield them from the elements, and Itachi pulled down the cloth that had been protecting his face from the wind. He raised his voice to be heard over the buzz of insect wings. "Have your summons take us down and I'll explain it to you."

Fū rapped her knuckles four times on the dragonfly's body, to signal she wanted the creature to descend. Several of the insect's fellows had also agreed to convey the relief force and their medical supplies to the Sunagakure resistance, and the shadows of the gargantuan creatures were skimming over the desert below. All four alit in the shadow of the wide plateau which cradled the hidden village, far out from the barriers and sentries protecting it. The night would conceal their landing.

Shizune and Sakura worked themselves free from the next row of seats. The younger woman was about to drop down to stretch her legs when she realized the last passenger was having some difficulty loosening the buckles.

"Here, I can do it," she said, reaching for the strap.

Silently, Sai moved his left hand away and allowed her to assist him, displaying neither self-consciousness nor gratitude. His balance was just a little off when his feet struck the sand–he had almost reached out to support the crouch with a right hand that was no longer there. He corrected the miscalculation and stood as Sakura joined him on the ground.

After Jiraiya had disabled the Root seal on his tongue, he had answered all the questions his interrogators had asked him completely yet tersely… as well as those Sakura herself had posed, trying to get to know him as they recovered together in the Amegakure hospital. The normal ebb and flow of conversation didn't come easily to him. Instead, he'd spent most of his time confined to bed filling sheets and sheets of copy paper with unsteady scribbles that were nothing like the fluid, expressive drawings she'd caught glances of in his cherished sketchbook.

"Sai-san, I know this was a hard choice for you to make," she said, her eyes flickering to the scratch through his hitai-ate, "one that took a lot of compassion and a lot of courage, and I wanted to thank you again for agreeing to come with us on this mission. I know how you must feel about Naruto, after what he had to do when your Root platoon attacked us outside of Tonoshō Gai."

His previously blank face contracted with loss; mentions of his brother's death sparked the only emotional reactions she had ever seen from him. "It was like Shin-niisan said–it is better this way. At least when he died, he was still my brother… not my enemy."

"Naruto still feels terrible about what happened. He'll find a way to help you fight again… that's the kind of person he is," Sakura said.

Sai tilted his head in puzzlement. "Can I ask why? I have already given Amegakure's intelligence officers all the information I possess. Once this mission is complete my life will have very little value to you."

"Your life still 'has value' because it's _your life_. We do things a lot differently than they did in Root. Get used to it. You're one of us now."

"Sakura, Sai-kun, with me, please," Itachi called, as he finished pulling off the protective gear. "We'll be going over mission responsibilities one last time."

Shizune and Fū were already standing beside him, waiting to begin the briefing. Sakura let the thread of the conversation slip loose and walked over to meet her teacher. Sai looked thoughtfully down at his toes and jogged over to join them.

"Taicho, I've prepared the gas grenades for–" Shizune began, addressing Itachi.

"Wait, I'm his sempai," Fu interrupted, blind to the look of annoyance Sakura gave her. "Why does he get to be captain?"

Itachi simply stared at the young woman for several seconds. "That you have asked that question provides your answer. We do not have time for this. If you absolutely must pursue this with me, do so after Naruto and Gaara have been rescued. I will not endanger their safety or that of my teammates–which _includes_ _you_–over petty arguments about seniority."

A shiver ran down her back as she met his eyes, and she had to drop her own. "Man, you're even better at creepy glaring no jutsu than Pain-sama," she whispered, and then scrubbed her face with her hands and continued in a louder voice. "Never mind… it's kind of habit. This is my first official mission after Yagura-sempai got me out of Taki. I'm still not used to having a captain who'd treat me like an actual human with actual feelings and not a person-shaped jar full of demon. You're in charge–a hundred percent in charge."

Itachi accepting her apology with a curt nod. "We will need to rely on subterfuge rather than strength, as I explained in Ame. Our goal is not to retake Sunagakure, but if we can give their field commanders the _impression_ that we are attempting to do so, they will be forced to withdraw or risk losing their capital."

He looked to Fū. "Yagura has briefed me on your abilities and the progress you have been making communicating with the Nanabi. You will be putting those skills to the test by staging an attack on the village in order to distract their shinobi from the actual aim of this mission–sabotaging their communications.

"The success of this operation hinges largely upon Sai-kun and the high level of security clearance he was granted by Shimura Danzō. According to the intelligence he has provided to Akatsuki, many of the chakra-enhanced locks and barriers in Konoha, and presumably its occupied territories, contain overrides keyed to high-ranking Root members. These keys are changed every three months, but we should still be within the cycle Sai was given when he was sent on the assassination mission. As far as Danzō knows, he did not survive, and in any case a betrayal from a former Root member would be inconceivable to him.

"I will place a genjutsu on the com team to ensure one last message calling for help is broadcast to the main force of the army in the northwest, and then destroy the equipment so the truth cannot be immediately verified. Sakura will be taking care of the messenger birds."

Shizune held out a cloth bag cinched closed with a strip of leather, and Sakura tucked it into one of her supply pouches. "These are the gas grenades I prepared specifically to disable small- to medium-sized hawks. There's no antidote but time. It will leave them too weak and disoriented to fly for days, but it shouldn't kill them."

"Shizune-san, please lead the medical teams to the fortress as soon as we four set out for our portion of this mission," Itachi said. "If the army has not withdrawn by the time you arrive, we've failed. Your orders will then be to extract Naruto and Gaara and get them to safety by air, if at all possible." He exhaled and continued softly, "I also have one personal request. If you can find Kakashi and get him out of there without jeopardizing the safety of the jinchūriki…"

She bobbed her head in acknowledgement. "I'd planned to keep an eye out for him. You didn't even have to ask."

"Thank you," Itachi said. "Any questions?"

The other four shook their heads, and Shizune jogged back to where the Ame medic-nin were milling around the insects. She urged them back into the saddles and Fū raised her hand to the dragonflies as they took to the air again.

They scaled the plateau under Itachi's genjutsu and reached the windswept horizontal plane. Suna's detection barrier was spread over the hollow. Itachi led them to the very edge and stopped, gesturing to Sai. The boy pulled a scroll and inkwell out of his hip pouch and began painting a seal onto the paper with enormous care. The ink was so saturated with blood they could smell it.

Fū swallowed as she looked out over the village. She shucked the cloth-wrapped summoning scroll tied to her back, as well as the Akatsuki coat, leaving her in a gray halter top that matched her loose pants. She summoned another dragonfly, this one only about the size of a hunting dog, to safeguard her scroll and uniform during the assault.

Once it had departed with her things, she raised her arms into a 'T' and took a deep breath. "Come on, like you promised," she muttered to herself. "It's _your_ brothers we're rescuing, too. All the good luck charms in the world aren't going to save my skin if I charge in there naked."

Although its answer went unheard to all but Fū herself, Chomei acknowledged her request and plates of gray chitin began exuding from her skin. When the transformation was complete, she was protected by a flexible, organic suit of armor that covered her from head to toe. A rhinoceros beetle's horn jutted from the helmet piece, above the clear membrane that shielded her eyes. Finally, two pairs of lemon-yellow wings emerged from her back. She fluttered them experimentally. As they buzzed, her feet were lifted a few centimeters from the ground.

She launched herself up and then did a somersault in the air, laughing for the pure joy of it. "You really did miss this, didn't you, bug? Keep playing nice and we can do this more often."

"You can _fly_?" Sakura asked.

"Hell yes I can fly," she answered, her voice muffled by the helmet her bijū had created for her. "It's hot as blazes in here, but nobody's going to bash my head in. Without a lot of Chomei's power behind the punch, not even I can break through the stuff this armor is made of."

Sai finished creating the key and returned his brush to its case. He split his thumb with his teeth and pressed a fingerprint in pure blood next to the seal. He lifted the scroll and pressed the loose end between his lips to hold it before the barrier. The characters oozed from the paper and struck the iridescent veil that was shimmering before Itachi's sharingan. The strokes joined and reformed into a very thin ring near the cliff's edge. The chakra within the circle disappeared, leaving a gap for them to pass through. Itachi could detect no other disturbance in the chakra distribution, no warning pulse to inform the Sunagakure barrier team their village had been infiltrated–Sai's key had worked.

"Go around to the warehouse district and enter the barrier from there," Itachi instructed Fū. "I'm removing you from the invisibility genjutsu as soon as you reach it. Make an entrance that will get their attention."

Fū clapped her hands together, and from the palm of her left hand emerged the stout shaft of a club. It was composed of the same material as the armor, as long as she was tall and studded with spikes. "Not gonna be a problem."

She saluted and took off, skimming the outskirts of the village. She executed a loop and dove into the sheet of chakra. A plume of dust and the sound of collapsing masonry surged up from where she'd breached the barrier.

They passed through the ring of ink and made their way quickly to the communications building. A tall antenna had been installed on the roof, to capitalize on the instantaneous communication abilities of Konoha's Yamanaka Clan, in addition to the birds on which Suna had had to rely in the past. The attention of Suna's defenders had been pulled toward the spectacular explosion Fū had created, and under Itachi's genjutsu they slipped inside the building without challenge.

Itachi found them a deserted nook and urged Sakura and Sai to duck around the anxious night-shift workers. "Sai-kun, your part in this mission is done. Stay close to me until we're out of immediate danger. The batteries and communications device will probably be on the second floor–that's where the wires to the antenna mounted on the roof were leading," he said. "Sakura, find the aviary, disable the birds, and rendezvous with Fū and her summons on the roof as soon as you finish."

"Yes Sensei," Sakura murmured.

They split at the stairwell, and Sakura continued up under her own genjutsu. Already undermanned from the disaster during the Chūnin Exams, as Itachi had predicted only a skeleton crew of shinobi remained to guard the structure. She kept her ears pricked for the keening of hawks and soon found her goal. From the hall, she could hear the squawking and shuffling of their wings through the door, as well as the agitated voices of their minders. There were three shinobi on the other side. The door was locked, and, if they had similar security measures to Konoha's, probably alarmed. She pressed her back against the wall, thinking furiously. To get in without alerting building security, she'd need the door to be opened from the inside.

One of the men in the room coughed a few times, his voice rough with age and cigarettes, and with that sound Sakura realized how she was going to make that happen. She sunk her claws into his mind and shortened his breath even further, and made the air around him feel as if it grown even hotter and more stifling.

"Sir? Sir, are you all right?" the kunoichi inside said, loudly and abruptly.

He pushed aside her concern with a few muffled words. Sakura laid the sensation of weight onto the center of his chest and held it there. There was a crash as the man stumbled against a piece of furniture.

The woman swore. "I don't care what's going on outside, I'm getting you to the hospital! It sure looks to _me_ like you're having a heart attack. Yasuo, run down to the cryptography lab and see who you can grab as relief for the two of us."

Sakura ducked around the corner as the door opened, and the two younger shinobi helped their apparently deathly ill superior to the stairs. She spun about and shot her chakra wire at the door handle, catching it just before it closed. Once inside, she pulled out a handful of the marble-sized gas grenades Shizune had given to her and a respirator. She pressed it against her mouth and nose and cinched the straps. This sedative wasn't particularly dangerous to humans, but a whiff would disrupt her ability to function at full capacity, and on a mission this dangerous that wasn't something she could afford. The globes popped with quiet hisses and one by one the hawks began tumbling drunkenly from their perches.

She sidled cautiously down the hallways, avoiding the chakra signatures she could sense around her as she made her way back to the stairs and followed them all the way up. She crouched in the shadow of an air vent to wait, hoping operations had gone as smoothly for everyone else.

"Sakura here; I'm on the roof," she said into the microphone. "The birds are drugged. Didn't have to engage anyone inside, either."

"Excellent work," Itachi said. "I just found where they're keeping the backup chakra amplifier and batteries." The hisses of flame and melting plastic became audible over the radio. "One more minute and we need to be in the air."

They waited for confirmation from Fū, but it didn't come. Sakura let her hand fall from the microphone as she noticed the gray and yellow smudge amidst the rising dust flying erratically toward the communications tower. She risked peeking her head above the rail to get a better look in the light of the streetlamps. Fū's armor didn't seem to be split or bloodied, but she was so disoriented she struck the side of a building and slid to the balcony below. She tried to get to her feet and fell again before she could take two full steps.

Sakura was about to rise to aid her, but dozens of shinobi converged on the platform, more than she would ever be able to fend off. "Sensei, Fū's in trouble," she whispered over the channel. "_Serious_ trouble."

She ducked back into her hiding place as she heard footsteps on the stairs, but relaxed when Itachi and Sai appeared at the door opening onto the roof. Sai folded down to his knees beside her, watching as even more of Suna's defenders converge on their fallen teammate.

"Stay here and stay hidden," Itachi told them. "I'm going to get her out of there."

Itachi leaped to the neighboring building and made for the balcony on which Fū had fallen. She had struggled to her feet again, using the wall to support her back. Weakened though she was, the shinobi that had converged on her still hadn't closed in to restrain her, wary of her inhuman, bone-cracking strength.

The odds were rapidly approaching a hundred to one… and a about a quarter of the men and women were clad in blue and green. Itachi's teeth clenched. He'd done his best to keep casualties to an absolute minimum, but the situation had progressed past that kind of delicacy. The three tomoe in his eyes split into six and stretched thin, reversing to red on a black field. The ornate carving on the balcony railing began to smoke. Dark flame licked up the stylized stone flowers and vines until Fū was shielded behind a screen of Amaterasu's fire. Itachi slid down the spherical dome atop the building she'd fallen upon, until he found a window large enough to crawl through. It wasn't locked–a stroke of luck–and he worked a kunai under the frame to pry it open enough to admit his fingers.

There were already multiple shinobi inside the house, trying to take her from behind. Itachi silently dispatched them with the kunai in his hand and a touch of genjutsu to silence their cries of pain. He made his way through the rooms to the heat billowing through the open archway that led to the balcony. Someone on the other side attempted to blast apart the wall of flame with a suiton jutsu. It vaporized instantaneously without passing through the barrier, badly scalding anyone too close on the opposite side.

The gray armor plates had peeled back and her wings had retracted into her shoulder blades, leaving Fū in only the gray Akatsuki uniform. The cloth was pasted to her chest with sweat and the sensitive tissue of her eyes, nose, and lips were blistered and red. She pushed herself up and coughed as Itachi approached, trying to gulp down air.

He created a kage bunshin to clear out any opposition on their way out. "I've seen this poison before," he said, as he looped his arms under hers and pulled her up. "I didn't think they'd dare to release an inhalant so corrosive in the middle of their own village. Your bijū should be able to mitigate the chemical burns until we can get you to Shizune. You need to hold on until then."

There were still traces of the poison embedded in the fibers of her clothes; he could feel the skin of his hands begin to itch and throb as he helped her back to where Sakura and Sai where hiding. His clone and the cover of illusion he had pulled over them would buy them only a few minutes.

Struggling to breathe and unable to speak, Fū managed to split her thumb on her teeth and kneel on the surface of the roof to initiate the summoning. The ring of fuinjutsu spread out from her bloodied hand, and above them the same lavender dragonfly they'd rode in on appeared over their heads. It darted to the side of the roof so they could more easily mount–they had just seconds before the creature became a target.

Itachi helped Fū stagger to the saddle. Sai jumped on to the creature's back and found his seat, twisting a strap around in his good hand so he couldn't be thrown off in their haste to flee. Sakura clambered onto the stone rail and readied herself to follow. But as she made the leap, the dragonfly dove abruptly to the right to avoid a stream of fire from a Suna jōnin on one of the rooftops. Itachi reached for her hand, but could not grasp it without relinquishing his own precarious balance.

She grasped at one of the stray lengths of leather that had been used to cinch the saddle tight around the insect's body. Her hands were too slick with sweat for her to hold on for more than a moment, but it gave her time to work her chakra wire into a metal ring riveted to the side of the contraption. She cried out as the metal bracer dug hard into her wrist as she lost her grip with her other hand, but the wire held fast. The buildings of Suna dropped away beneath her as the insect strained to give them more altitude. Bracing himself against the saddle ridges, Itachi leaned out and caught her free hand to haul her up.

No one spoke as the dragonfly strained its wings to propel them west. That spurt of fear at seeing Sakura fall had shaken Itachi. His heart hadn't fully healed from the losses his life had dealt him… and if the wounds were stressed again too soon, it might never.

-ooo-

Naruto inhaled a lungful of the damp, musty air and sighed. Some part of him had been frightened enough to propel his mind down to the depths of the demon's prison, but he wasn't going to surrender to it. He picked himself up from the ankle-deep water and braced himself to face Kurama.

"I'm not taking it," Naruto said, without even looking up. "You're wasting your time."

"You can't be giving up yet," Kurama said.

Naruto raised his face. "I'm not giving up," he said with a shrug. "I've got my plan, and it's this: I don't let you out before Itachi gets here. Kakashi-sensei might not…" he held his breath against the heat of tears, "but at least Gaara and Hinata will probably get out alive, this way."

"But you must–"

"_No_!" Naruto screamed. "Every word you've ever spoken to me has been a lie. I'm not falling for it this time! If I let you out now, there's no guarantee I can stuff you back _in _before you massacre everyone... or stuff you back in at all."

The fur on Kurama's back began to lift. "I can give you the strength to withstand Sakumo. You would be safe, you fool!"

"_I'm_ the fool? You're just pissed I wised up enough to stop falling for this trick," Naruto said softly. "I can't trust you, so it has to end here. I'll be able to see my parents again… all four of them. And the Old Man. And Iruka-sensei. It won't be so bad."

Kurama swept his tails across the bars as he paced about in an agitated circle. "You humans have the mercy of death to free you from suffering. We bijū do not. When your soul rises to its rest, mine will be torn into a hundred thousand pieces. The agony will not end until I can gather myself again. It could be years. Decades!" He whirled to face Naruto once more. "You don't understand! I cannot endure that again!"

"That's not my fault," Naruto countered. "_You_ were the one that decided you hated me from the get-go. _You_ were the one that's kept trying to kill my family and my friends. _You _were the one who threw it back in my face when I tried to look past all that to give you a little sympathy, when I realized you were in pain." He crossed his arms resolutely over his chest. "I gave you more chances than you deserved, and you blew every single one."

Kurama's claws contracted and gouged into the stone. "Naruto, I'm…" His black lips quivered with distaste, and the next word that worked its way loose could scarcely be heard. "…sorry." He raised his right foreleg and pinched his fingers together. A pinprick of light formed between the claw points and drifted down, between the bars.

Naruto hastily splashed backward through the water, wary of yet another trick. The globe was no larger than a marble and came to rest before him, bobbing gently. It had a dark core surrounded by golden fire, gently warm but also possessing a palpable gravity.

"What is this?" Naruto asked, reaching up to stroke it with one finger.

"My chakra and only my chakra. Pure power, free of any taint, to use however you wish."

Naruto let his hand drop to his side. "No. I won't take it."

Kurama's ears folded back against his skull. "I have lied to you, yes, but not this time. I swear on the Rikudō Sennin's five treasures. I have spent so long looking for duplicity among mortals I never thought I would find another besides the sage who would offer me kindness for kindnesses' sake. Please help me."

Naruto drew the small orb closer to his chest. It buzzed against his fingers, but the power was neutral, without the sickening anger Naruto had felt from Kurama's 'gifts' in the past. "You'd better not make me regret this," he warned the demon. "This is your last chance. Your _last_ chance."

He bowed back into the shadows. "You won't. Swallow it, and you'll see."

He swept it hesitantly onto his tongue and closed his teeth around the light. He fell back into the desert and into his body as he swallowed, still trapped in the packed earth Sakumo had used to get him out of the way. The seed of chakra seemed to bloom inside of him, without pain, without anger, filling and filling and filling him with its power.

The light glowing from his limbs broke the crust easily; one jerk and it crumbled like wet sand. He saw Sakumo turn and swipe at him with the chakra sabre, which he ducked with barely any effort. The speed with which he could now move was beyond exhilarating. He dodged another blow and swung his foot around in a kick that sent the man bouncing into a boulder several meters away.

He smashed the earthen matrix still entrapping Kakashi, Temari and Maki. Astonished, Kakashi pressed his fingertips to the tear in his coat. The blade had split a few of the mail rings but left only a shallow cut on his sternum. He got up and stared at Naruto in naked awe for a few moments before refocusing his attention on his father. The color was not returning to his body as it reformed after the blow.

He made no moves to attack them again, and he simply stood silent with his eyes fixed on his son. The chakra sabre fell from his hand. "I never thought I would have the chance to hear you say that, Kakashi," Sakumo murmured. "The night I took my life, the knowledge I would be leaving you to face the world alone was my greatest regret. I thought you would hate me for my choice until the day you died... I never expected you to forgive me for it."

With a gust of desert wind, Sakumo's body collapsed into a drifting pile of white leaves and ash, with a corpse clad in a prisoner's jumpsuit swimming in the material left behind. With the threat gone, Naruto felt the power melt out of him, and they were left in darkness once more.

"W-what just happened?" Maki asked, as she picked herself up and brushed the dust from her sleeves. She worked her foot under the torso of the man lying on the ground and flipped him on his back. He was a stranger to them all and clearly very dead.

"I wish I knew," Kakashi replied, in a rough voice. "My father was no sealing master. He couldn't have broken the compulsion himself. I think there are a few more secrets to Edo Tensei we haven't learned yet."

Kakashi pulled the scabbard off the body, inserted his chakra sabre into it, and strapped it across his chest. He adjusted his shoulders so its weight settled properly on his back. He looked back at Temari.

She was on her knees beside Baki, and had just pulled the dog tags out from beneath his vest and snapped off the lower portion as a memento in case his body couldn't be recovered.

"There will be time to mourn him later. This still isn't over."

She turned away from her teacher's corpse and stood, her face wracked with pain but her eyes dry. "I know." She went to retrieve her tessen and fastened it on her back with Maki's assistance.

"Naruto…" Kakashi began. "What was that light? For a minute I almost thought you were the…"

Naruto could only shrug, exhausted and shaken. "The what?"

"Not what, who," Kakashi corrected. He pulled his headband over his sharingan and fished into his pocket for a packet of soldier pills and tossed one back. "Never mind. It's probably the chakra exhaustion. I never bought all this prophecy garbage anyway."

Once Temari had reclaimed her fan, they scaled the ridges about the fortress and crested them to find the tide of people was flowing backwards–the joint forces were withdrawing.

"That must have been Itachi," Naruto whispered. He let himself sag with relief against a rocky outcropping. "I don't know how, but he did it."

Temari pushed forward. "_Let them go_!" she cried to her soldiers. "_Let them take their wounded and go_!"

She hurried down to the valley floor to find her brothers. Naruto and then Kakashi followed her, while Maki disappeared into the crowd of weary defenders. A heavy droning from the air stopped Temari in her tracks. The men and women looked up and began hastily moving out of the way as the contingent of dragonflies dropped out of the inky sky.

The lead insect touched down in the open area in front of the fortress, and Shizune jumped from its back. She had a relieved smile to spare for Kakashi. "Itachi and his team should be right behind me. He was worried about you." She let her eyes fall. "So was I."

"You were?"

"Yes, I mean, as a former year-mate in the Academy and all," she clarified hastily. "And Jiraiya wants to rendezvous with you just inside the Ame border to work on Gaara's seal outside of a heavily populated area. He'll be waiting at the sixth southern checkpoint." She dipped her head. "If you'll excuse me…" She ducked by him, straightened, and began shouting orders to start unpacking supplies and setting up triage procedures, pressing anyone who could still walk into transporting the injured inside.

When the last of the joint forces had retreated deep into the maze, quiet fell. One by one the puppets still hovering about the battlefield dropped out of the sky. Sasori was standing by the ruins of the arch, Gaara and Kankurō by his side, and Temari hanging back by the walls.

Kakashi found Naruto again with the Suna shinobi. "Sempai…" Kakashi said to Sasori's back, for the first time using the word without mockery. "I think I misjudged you."

Sasori looked over his shoulder, his expression unreadable, and collapsed. Kakashi sprang forward to catch his body as it clattered to the ground. He looked at the hand that had brush Sasori's bare chest as he'd fallen, and realized with horror that his palm, and the blackened wood of Sasori's torso, were saturated with liquid. He brushed the dirt and ashes away from the canister embedded in the puppet body. A portion of the steel was deeply dented, and fresh blood well up from the crack in the metal. "Naruto, go find Chiyo. Now. _Run_."

"There's nothing she can do," Sasori said. He was struggling to summon enough strength to manipulate the mechanism that allowed him to speak. "I'm the only one that could repair the seals sustaining my core, and I don't have the time left."

Kakashi shut his eye for a moment and withdrew his hands. "I understand. Are you in pain? Is there anything that you need?"

"No," he murmured, looking with confusion at the droop of Kakashi's head and shoulders. "Why would this turn of events upset you? You don't even like me."

"Maybe I changed my mind," Kakashi said. "I've seen a lot of comrades die. I did everything I could not to add any more people to that list… and I failed. Again." He swallowed. "Do you want me to stay with you until…?"

"I'm not even sure why, but yes… I think I would. Kankurō," he said, as he heard the two brothers' footsteps near. "I'd like you to salvage whatever you can from what remains of my collection. I also kept a small workshop in my suite in Amegakure. Everything in it is now yours, with one exception.

"Gaara, the drawer third from the left and second from the top has a false back. Inside the compartment you will find a lacquer box containing a small emerald pendant that belonged to your mother. You can have it."

The noncombatants had begun to edge out of the fortress and had reached the battlefield below. Those not searching frantically for missing loved ones began to clump around Sasori as he lay in the sand, silently thanking him for his sacrifice. The ring of solemn quiet was broken by a child's shriek, in jubilation rather than pain, as the little boy spotted his mother and father in the crowd. The man whirled around to scoop him up and the woman threw her arms around them both.

Sasori raised his head a little at the sound and, very faintly, smiled.

Naruto soon returned with Chiyo close on his heels, and they wormed their way through the cluster of soldiers. The old woman knelt with some difficulty beside her grandson. She leaned in close to his ear to whisper her question. "I never wanted to air our family's shame in the open, but please tell me before it's too late–is Gaara your son?"

"Probably," Sasori answered softly.

"And all of this…" Chiyo continued. "Did you do it to protect him?"

"What does that matter to you?" Sasori snapped at her, summoning up the energy for one more burst of rancor. "Go away and let me die in peace, you old hag."

Chiyo didn't rise to acquiesce to his request, placing her hand on his shoulder instead. "I regret what I did to Karura. I never stopped regretting it. I left the village for my cottage and my fishpond because I was a coward who couldn't face the suffering of my son, my grandson…" She looked at Gaara. "Or my great-grandson."

"Too little and too late," Sasori said.

"I know," Chiyo acknowledged. "I know. You left before I could tell you what I would have given to you for causing you so much pain. I finished it–the Kisho Tensei. I kept those first two puppets you made, you know… the mother and the father. If you'd stayed, I would have used their bones and those wooden bodies to anchor their souls for you, so they could hold you again with real human hands. How fortunate I never went through with it. There's a better use for that jutsu today, isn't there?"

"But that's a kinjutsu," Kankurō said, horrified. "Chiyo-sama, you could–"

"Hush up, boy. I know what I'm doing. It's a fair trade."

A flicker of blue light gathered in her hands as she laid them over Sasori's core. It grew in intensity and the wood split and cracked, pushed apart from the inside by streams of the same light. The puppet body arched, convulsing, and as it was enveloped completely in the glow Sasori began to scream. It lacked the flat quality of his puppet voice, as if it now issued from a real throat, the visceral cry of a human being in terrible pain.

"Kankurō, hold him down before he knocks her over!" Kakashi ordered, bracing his forearm over Sasori's chest and flailing arms.

Kankurō clamped his hands down just above Sasori's knees. The strange chakra stung their fingers for a few moments more. The glow receded, and Chiyo slumped backward into a cushion of Gaara's sand. Sasori's breathing was ragged and far too fast, as if he'd almost forgotten how to do it. The joint lines on his neck, ribcage, and shoulders were gone, covered with real skin and not cleverly molded rubber. His face was no longer so smooth and symmetrical, the work of a sculptor, but a real human face, still handsome but with more prominent cheekbones and faint creases at the corners of his eyes.

Gaara lowered Chiyo to the ground beside Sasori. His hand hovered above her mouth and nose, and then went to the artery in her neck. "She'd dead."

"How're you feeling?" Kakashi asked Sasori finally.

Sasori pushed himself up, Kakashi's steadying hand on his shoulder. He blinked down at Chiyo for a long time without answering. He reached up to brush his fingers against his cheeks and withdrew them, mystified, when they came away wet. "Alive," he whispered.

-ooo-

With victory theirs, the able-bodied continued with the tasks of healing the living and burying the dead. Itachi, Sakura, and Fū touched down shortly after Shizune had finished setting up a small field hospital, and Itachi and Sakura helped their injured comrade into the tents. Thanks to Shizune's experience and expertise, the casualties were lighter than anyone had dared to hope for.

The non-combatants were hustled out as the day broke, to find sanctuary deeper in the wilderness. Most of the resistance had already moved on. The bodies had all been cleared away, although the ground was still littered with broken weapons and the bloodied sand was beginning to stink in the heat.

Naruto picked his way across the field to the shade of the ruined arch, shooing a slightly baffled-looking Sai in front of him. "Are you certain this is a good idea, Naruto-san?" Sai asked. "We were ordered to assist in the evacuation of–"

"I told you, don't 'san' me," he said. "And it's fine. The last batch of refugees is almost packed up and they're heading out with Temari in a couple hours. I checked. They don't need any more help."

In the shade of the broken structure, Sasori and Kankurō had been working feverishly to sort and salvage whatever they could from the puppets that had littered the battlefield. Kankurō was struggling to pull apart a slightly dented dart launcher, while deeper in the shade Sasori was methodically sealing their finds into storage scrolls, still looking pale and ill from the trials of the past night.

"Hey. You," Naruto called, picking his way towards the man. "There's somebody I'd like you to meet." He nudged Sai forward with his elbow.

"I'm busy. They can wait," he said, without looking up from his work.

"Not goin' anywhere. Give us two minutes and I'll lend you twenty kage bunshin to help pack up this stuff."

Sasori grumbled under his breath and finally acknowledged Sai's presence. "Fine," he said, dropping a multi-jointed arm onto the unfurled scroll. He looked the boy up and down, his eyes coming to rest on the sleeve pinned over Sai's missing hand. "Oh," he said derisively. "That's what you wanted. Explain to me why I should help him?"

"Tell him what you told Sakura while you were in the hospital," Naruto prompted.

Sai unfolded his good hand and held out the sketchbook. "My painting was my life. It was how I fought and how I filled the hours I wasn't fighting. I have no home, no family, and no teammates. Without it, I have nothing left. Naruto said you were an artist. He said you would understand."

Intrigued apparently against his will, Sasori took the book and leafed through the pages. "You are very good," he said at last. "But training to use a prosthetic limb can take months… even years, to reach the level of proficiency needed to hold your own on the battlefield. My puppet collection was decimated and until I can build it back up again I don't have anywhere close to that kind of time to waste on you."

The satisfied smile melted from Naruto's face. "Wait, _what_?" he sputtered. "The universe gave you a second chance. What you said to Kakashi… you're supposed to have, like, _changed _and stuff."

"Did you hit your head some time last night?" Sasori asked scathingly. "What about my present situation has given you the impression I'm directing a charity for disabled orphans? Get out of here, Naruto. I am _busy_."

"But… you decided to help… and you gave Gaara… and your grandma…" Naruto mumbled, trailing off into a groan of consternation. "That's not how this is supposed to work!"

"Either give me those kage bunshin you promised or go away."

From behind a pile of broken puppets, an uncharacteristically nervous Kankurō cleared his throat. "Sasori-san… um, what if you had help rebuilding your collection? I've been studying your notes and technical drawings since I was old enough to read." He licked his lips, brushing aside some of the wooden parts in front of him, and bowed his head. "I've wanted to say this to you since the first time we spoke." He took a breath. "To be truly immortal is to pass the art of creation down from one generation to the next. So please... would you give me the honor of being your first student?"

"Being my _what_?" Sasori asked, rubbing his forehead with one hand and then sweeping it back over his hair.

"You said I had talent. What am I supposed to do with it here? Baki is gone and besides you, the best of the Puppet Corps are either dead or've thrown it in with Konoha. I may still be a genin, but I've already surpassed every puppeteer loyal to the resistance. You need an assistant and I need a teacher. I'll do anything you ask. Please."

"This is a truly awful idea," he said. "Wanting to learn from the best is admirable; I don't fault you for that. But unfortunately for you, the best puppeteer in the world happens to be _me_. In case you somehow failed to notice, I am very possessive of my time and I hate children. Nor do I think your sister would approve."

"She doesn't have to approve–she's decided to stay in Suna to lead the men in Baki's place. She's better at that kind of stuff than I am," Kankurō said. "And I'm not a child. I'm taller than you!"

"You're not doing a very good job of endearing yourself to me."

"Yee-up, looks like everyone's problems are solved!" Naruto announced. "Kankurō, you're definitely coming back with us to Ame. You two can be impatient and mean and full of yourselves _together_." He clapped his hands together in glee. "It's perfect. The perfectest!" With that, he grabbed Sai and marched back the way he'd come.

"So, uh, Sensei… could you help me get this catch apart? It's all bent," Kankurō said, holding up the complex steel contraption.

Sasori sagged back against the canyon walls, massaging his eye sockets. "I have agreed to nothing. Don't you dare start calling me that."

"…Guess that's a no. Never mind."

"That's not what I said," Sasori quipped, peeling his eyes open again. He selected a pair of small pliers from the tool kit beside him. "Bring it over here. I'll show you."

-ooo-

"Are the pair of you _sure_ you want to be present for this?" Itachi asked the two boys sitting with him around the breakfast table. The kitchen at the small military outpost on the Ame border was cramped and the plaster moldy in the corners, but it was warm and reasonably dry. "This is the last chance you have to get out of range if Gaara-kun's seal augmentation fails. The men stationed here have already–_wisely_–evacuated along with Shizune and Sakura and the injured under their care."

Naruto drained his bowl of rice porridge and licked the last of the broth off of his lips. He batted aside a scrap of paper covered in Jiraiya's notes and put the vessel down. Most of the horizontal surfaces had become a mess of ink spots and unfurled scrolls over the course of the last four days. "Already made up my mind. Don't worry so much–Gaara's got this. He's not going to lose control."

"Kankurō-kun?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Kankurō said. "It's not like he's about to admit it, but I think my brother's pretty scared. I want to be here if he needs me."

Itachi shrugged faintly in defeat and returned his attention to the simple meal. Kankurō was probably right–Gaara had refused the offers of both breakfast and conversation and was still stretched out on one of the thin mattresses inside the barracks, although he did not need the sleep. When they finished, Naruto collected and hastily rinsed off the dishes before pushing open the door to inspect the preparations outside. It had taken several days, and a great deal of heated argument, before Jiraiya and Sasori had hashed out a technique to lock the demon's consciousness away from Gaara's own.

The two sealing masters had arisen very early to take advantage of a break in the rain. Jiraiya had cleared a wide circle in the mud and leveled it to a perfect platform with a doton jutsu. The smooth surface was dense with the whorls and flourishes of three villages' sealing styles, only a few of which Itachi could recognize. The rings in the center would loosen Gaara's native seal, those in the middle would modify the patterns, and those on the edges would generate barriers to contain any demonic power that managed to leak through.

"Jiraiya, are you done yet?" Sasori called testily across the circle.

"You really want me to rush triple-checking something like this?" he said, looking up for a moment. He tapped the edge of the brush against the ground, examining the alignment of several elements. Satisfied, he put it aside and looked over his shoulder at the three young men who'd appeared behind him.

"I wouldn't want to go out for beers with the guy, but one thing he isn't is sloppy with his fuinjutsu," Jiraiya said vaguely in Naruto's direction. "Wonder where he picked all this up."

"His grandma Chiyo, I bet," Naruto supplied. "She died in the siege. I wouldn't mention her to Sasori if I were you."

"Her? Her poison concoctions drove Tsunade nuts during the Second Great War. Must've been one hell of a talented old lady," Jiraiya said.

The door in the dome-shaped building creaked and Gaara emerged blinking in the sparse sunlight that had tunneled through the cloud cover. "You're finished?" he asked hesitantly.

"All we're waiting on is you," Jiraiya said.

A thin stream of sand poured down from the opening of his gourd and collected in the mud under his feet to raise him a few centimeters above the ground. It carried him silently to the exact center of the sealing circle and rejoined the earth, not disturbing a single line.

"Ready?" Sasori called.

Jiraiya consulted the page of notes beside him one last time. "As I'll ever be," he answered.

Itachi preemptively activated his Mangekyō sharingan and gestured for Naruto and Kankurō to take several steps back. If both the barriers and Gaara's will faltered, containing Shukaku would fall to him. Jiraiya and Sasori both knelt to execute a long chain of synchronized hand signs and released the power into two sets of small circles drawn against the main ring. The lines filled with light like molten metal flowing into a mold.

There was an explosion and a swirl of sand, followed by a deep, sustained roar like an encroaching sandstorm. The grit was halted by the barriers that glowed to life at the edge of the array, but they did not stop the wind. The stooped trees around them shook violently, and the windows of the army outpost rattled in their frames.

Just when Itachi was sure the straining barriers were about to snap, the cylinder of sand swirling around Gaara reversed direction, pulling inward and away from the edges of the seal array. The cyclone grew tighter and tighter, slowing its furious spiral until the sand was suctioned into the gourd on Gaara's back, tamed. He dropped to his knees, groaned, and collapsed onto his side.

Jiraiya allowed the tension in his arms to relent, as did Sasori. The puppeteer had less natural stamina than Jiraiya and the resealing had taken a greater toll on him. He sat heavily, resting his elbows against his knees as he caught his breath.

Jiraiya got up and brushed some of the dirt from his pants. He sighed gustily, shaking his head. "I'm going to need a drink–or six. That was one of the scariest goddamn things I've ever done. Looks like it worked, though."

Naruto moved to go to Gaara's side, but was stopped by Itachi's upraised arm. "Don't. Let me."

Itachi wrapped Susanō's ribcage and bony arms around his body, extending one to delicately turn Gaara on his back. The boy groaned again and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Gaara?" Naruto ventured. "How you doing?"

"Head hurts. A lot. And it feels… weird. Really, _really_ weird," he said, letting his hand drop to the ground.

"Like good weird or bad weird?" Kankurō asked anxiously.

"Like there's more room than there was before," he said. He sat up and pulled his knees under his chin, so he could gaze out at the temperate rainforest infringing on the clean lines of the base. "Everything is so quiet now. It's… nice."

Itachi dispelled Susanō to allow Naruto to step over the lip of the stone platform, and he crouched next to Gaara. "Want any breakfast? I saved you some."

He nodded yes. "Thank you. Could you bring it out here? I think I want to be alone for a little while more."

"Sensei, what about you?" Kankurō said, jogging over to give Sasori a hand up. "You're looking kind of wobbly. Eating is a thing you have to do again, remember?"

He pushed away his new protégé's assistance with an irritated glance and headed inside himself. "I'm fine and perfectly capable of getting my own breakfast." He looked over his shoulder. "And how many times have I told you to stop calling me 'Sensei'?"

Gaara chewed on his bottom lip for a few moments, reconsidering his request to be left alone, and then pushed himself to his feet to follow the others inside. He was a bit less cautious getting up than he should have been, and once he stood the aftershocks of the resealing struck him full force. With their backs turned, no one noticed Gaara stagger as his vision went abruptly black. But as it always had, the sand whispered from its container to protect him, catching him before he could fall and strike his head on the stone beneath his feet.

The sound of it whipped Itachi about. "You said the seal took," he hissed accusingly to Jiraiya. "If Shukaku can still manipulate the sand it still has a hold over his mind."

"It _did_ take!" Jiraiya protested. "I checked the array three times. I don't half-ass these things!"

Gaara recovered rapidly from the dizzy spell and gasped as he felt his shield brush his skin. The amorphous cloud pulled back and took on a distinct outline, the grains winking in the shafts of sunlight piercing the mist. A woman unfolded from the sand shifting lazily around Gaara's body, She wore the long robes of Sunagakure, her hair cropped at her chin. She held her hand out to Sasori.

Shocked into speechlessness, Sasori stepped back across the sealing platform to meet her. "No, no, Karura…" he said after a long, fraught pause. "You don't want this for him. You can't possibly."

She still did not speak, but tilted her head reprovingly.

"I can't," he whispered. "I don't know anything about being a father!"

"Hey, look at it this way: no matter how much you screw it up, you'll still be doing a better job than the only other dad he's ever known," Naruto said.

He looked over his shoulder to scowl at Naruto's interruption, and when he turned back to his lover her image had dissolved. The sand twined back into the gourd and the stopper crystallized in the opening.

Gaara pushed himself up to a sitting position, his eyes averted from Sasori. He inhaled shakily and scrubbed at his face with the white sash wound around his chest. "Naruto... what you said to me in the desert. You were right. All this time, she _has _been here with me."

Sasori schooled his face into the expression of bland contempt he usually wore and turned his back to Gaara… but managed only two steps before he winced and turned around. "Here," he said, sliding his hand under Gaara's arm. "Let me help you up."

-ooo-

Amegakure was tense and stuffed to bursting with refugees, but in Nagato's absence Mei and Tsunade hadn't allowed Konoha's forces to gain a significant foothold within the borders. All current members of Akatsuki were in Ame to observe Gaara's official induction into the organization… a rare occurrence. It was to take place the morning after he arrived into the city, and the invitations had come in for them to convene early.

Naruto yawned and trudged up the grand staircase to the assembly hall. Itachi had had to badger him out of bed, and, still sleepy, he trailed after his brother's more assertive steps against the marble. He snapped his mouth abruptly shut when he noticed Sakura was waiting just outside the door to the meeting room. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Sakura-chan, I'm really sorry, but you're kind of not invited to this one. I was going to take Gaara out for some hot pot after the meeting's over. You should find Hinata and Kankurō… and maybe Haku and Kimimaro too, and see if they all want to come–like a little welcome-to-Ame party."

"I know I'm not invited," she said, rankled by the reminder of her status compared to her teammate. "I'm not waiting for you. I'm waiting for her," she said, looking past Naruto's shoulder to the blonde woman coming up the stairs. "Tsunade-sama, I'd like to talk to you." She brushed past Naruto to stand before her as Tsunade reached the second floor.

Tsunade crossed her arms beneath her ample chest to regard Sakura knowingly. "I've got a pretty good guess what this is about. You want me to teach you to become a healer, don't you?"

"No," Sakura said.

Tsunade's eyebrows arched, caught by surprise.

"I know a little–enough to get by as a field medic–but that's not my path. I don't have a kekkei genkai or a bijū or a summoning contract or a noble clan lineage. My chakra reservoir is average. I'm not very strong and I'm not very fast." Sakura balled her fists. "I can't help take back Konoha like this. I can't avenge Sasuke like this. I'll never measure up to the rest of my team like this."

"Then what is it you want me to do for you, Sakura?" Tsunade asked her.

"I plan to be worthy of one of those coats someday–someday soon. The only advantage I'm ever going to have is my mind, and two great masters: one of genjutsu, and one of medical ninjutsu. The techniques aren't so different, really. With genjutsu I can manipulate the senses. Misfire nerves. Freeze muscles. That's all the heart is–a muscle."

Tsunade's spine went rigid and her arms dropped to her sides. "You're asking me if I can help you learn to kill someone with only a thought?"

"No one has ever succeeded in bringing involuntary muscles fully under the control of an illusion before," Itachi said. "Even I can't kill with genjutsu alone."

"First time for everything," Sakura said.

"You could take down shinobi no one else in the world could touch–assuming you lasted long enough in a battle to fire it, which is where you're really going to need my help," Tsunade said, with a wicked crook in her lips. "An undetectable, unblockable, unavoidable one-hit kill…" She shook her head in incredulity. "If you really do manage to create this technique, it would be as revolutionary as Namikaze Minato's hiraishin. " She looked at Itachi. "I know her chakra control must be good. How good?"

His skeptical expression had started to unlace. "She has the greatest natural aptitude I have ever seen… bar none. That includes myself."

"Then I'm game to at least try." Tsunade planted her hands on her hips. "Hey, Uchiha. Want to put anything down on this? Say, a thousand ryō if she gets it within three years of today? What's your bet?"

"Gambling is not my pastime of choice," he said, lifting his brows.

Tsunade clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Come on,loosen up a little. A thousand ryō is nothing–just a friendly wager. If I'm cutting into my barhopping time to help train this kid–and I have to put up with a prig like you while I'm at it–the least you could do is make it worth my while."

He considered Sakura's painfully earnest face and finally conceded. "Two and a half years."

"Two years," Naruto added. "Because I'm going to let you practice on my kage bunshin if you help me come up with a study plan for the mountain of sealing technique books Jiraiya-sensei gave me." He moaned piteously. "Homework... my greatest enemy."

"Sakura, don't go anywhere," Tsunade said. "As soon as I get out of this meeting I want to see what you can do."

-ooo-

Tsunade had been the last to arrive outside the grand hall, and when she, Itachi, and Naruto shut the doors behind them, the meeting began. Gaara was given the same oath Naruto took, quickly and with little ceremony. He slipped the green ring on his left thumb, the only place it would fit on his thin fingers.

When the induction was complete, the Deva Path prepared to speak. "Konan has just received word that Kiri has formally entered into an alliance with Konoha and occupied Suna," he said. "Shimura Danzō's attention is turning to Iwa and the riches of their mines, which puts us in a very precarious position. Kumo is neutral and has chosen to remain so as long as they have the luxury, but they have made it clear they will offer no aid to us. Even with my rinnegan and six jinchūriki on our side, Akatsuki is going to be hard-pressed to hold back the combined might of three great villages."

"We already have allies in Fire Country," Kakashi said. "Good ones. People I trust, that want this war over and the real Hokage back in that office."

"And in Water," Mei put in. "I want my homeland back as much as you do. Yagura and I left friends and family behind in Kiri just like you did in Konoha, and as brutal as Madara tried to mold us to be, he failed as often as he succeeded. Kirigakure wasn't always like it is now. Under the Niidaime, the village was prosperous and peaceful. There are rumors Hoshigaki Kisame may be losing the loyalty of some of the Seven. Not all of the Hozuki could have forgotten their elder's legacy. They would make for powerful allies."

"They would be welcome," the Deva Path said, and nodded. "There will be few great battlefields or grand charges in this war; our numbers are too few. We will fight as Akatsuki has fought before… wherever the people of Storm Country need us, we will strike fast and hard, and then we will melt back into the mist. We will become the ghosts in the rain.

"Konoha's defeat will no doubt prompt swift and vicious retaliation, but the advantages and information we gained from it are beyond price. We know that Shimura Danzō is very likely using a stolen sharingan to sway the opinions of his allies in his favor. According to Itachi, who knew its original owner very well, this genjutsu is imperfect–and it can be broken. Edo Tensei likewise can be defeated, and that knowledge will ripple quickly across the continent. We have already been approached by envoys from Iwa, Kusa, and Taki looking for alliances. The Tsuchikage is an opportunist and has no loyalty to anyone but himself, but as long as our interests align he can be trusted to support us with Iwa's considerable military power. Our missions in the coming months will focus on counterintelligence and sabotage. Ōnoki has already pledged significant sums to arm and equip our shinobi, and will be sending members of their Demolition Corps–including one of his own students–covertly into Sunagakure to support their resistance. Our aim is to do anything we can do to keep our enemies unbalanced and spread too thin to mount a focused invasion.

"To that end, I would like to solidify the partnerships among previously unassigned members." He looked warningly at Sasori. "The existing arrangements are not negotiable."

"I haven't complained, have I?" Sasori said. He turned his head to sigh in Kakashi's direction, who had taken the place beside him. "Just don't be late to our next mission. You cannot even _comprehend_ how much waiting for people irritates me."

"Why?" Kakashi asked, genuinely curious.

"Personal reasons I would rather not discuss," Sasori said stiffly. "Why is it so vital for you to be tardy everywhere you go?"

"Personal reasons I would rather not discuss," Kakashi said.

"Why do you feel the need to mock someone both less forgiving and more powerful than you are?"

"He isn't mocking you," Itachi cut in, before the conversation could take a turn for the violent. "Believe me."

Sasori's look of annoyance transformed into something far more thoughtful, and the conversation subsided when the slightly puzzled Deva Path gathered himself to continue. "Naruto, as you already know, will be partnered with Jiraiya to further your knowledge of fuinjutsu, as he suggested to me while we were in Uzushio. Mei, Tsunade, your work together defending Storm country from Konoha's incursions was excellent, and I would like it to continue. Gaara will be working with Itachi; I believe their respective strengths in offensive and defensive techniques will complement each other well. Yagura, now that Fū has gained sufficient rapport with her bijū to make an effective field agent, I would like you to work with her as your full and equal partner. I trust there are no objections?"

Naruto opened his mouth, looked at Gaara, looked at the Deva Path, and thought better of it.

"Then this meeting is adjourned," the Deva Path said. "I will have specific assignments to distribute to each team within the coming days. It is very likely this will be the last time we are all assembled here. When Akatsuki was reformed seven years ago, it was conceived as an organization of outcasts and criminals. I never imagined it would bring together so many shinobi from so many places with such strong convictions. I wish all of you luck. You are dismissed."

Instead of following her partner as the group filed out, Konan turned back to wait for Itachi to pass the threshold and said, "Wait. I need to speak with you. Sakura, Naruto, stay for a moment as well. You'll want to hear this too."

Konan pulled a small envelope from a pocket concealed in the seam of her coat. "I finally got to the mission report submitted by the captain of the team Pain-sama sent to Oto. He'd heard an interesting rumor. Orochimaru is keeping a young man with black hair prisoner in his maximum-security medical research facilities. By the time the team found one, that particular base had been abandoned, but this symbol had been engraved into the wall of one of the cells." She opened the flap and extracted the slip of thin paper within.

Itachi accepted it from her and unfolded the paper with one hand–it was a smudged graphite rubbing, nothing more. The stylized uchiwa was a little lopsided and lumpy, as if it had been burned rather than scratched into the stone from which the imprint had been taken. He raised his other hand to the paper, caressing the lines with his thumb, so overcome with elation he could not put it into words.

"Sensei?" Sakura prodded. She reached for the paper herself, lowering his hand with her own so she could see what was printed upon it, and gasped when she recognized the Uchiha crest. "I don't believe it," she whispered, one hand against her heart. "He's alive."

"And he needs our help," Naruto said. "Konoha is going to be after Orochimaru too, aren't they? Somehow we'll have to get to him first."

Itachi tore his eyes away from fan and looked up at his two students. "I'll get him back," he said. "If it's the last thing I ever do, I'll get him back."

—-

I would like to thank everyone who stuck it out to the end of this story. Daybreak Part II is extremely unlikely to happen. I started writing fanfic as practice for a real fiction writing career (hey, it's been done), and with three completed novels under my belt I feel like I'm ready for the real thing. I do not plan to quit fanfic forever, but whatever I post will most likely be one- or two-shots and probably not be about Naruto.

I will be adding a few short stories and the first several chapters of my original YA fantasy novel, tentatively titled Glasswings, on my Fictionpress account in the coming year. If you enjoyed the worlds of Naruto or Avatar: ATLA/LOK, you'll probably like Glasswings.


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